'• si 









..0- 












<>>■ 

\^^ 



..s^ 



^yiW< 



.v^ 



* o ■ o " 



""^^^^ .-i^C^:. 






.^^-^'^ 









. Q. 















> 










♦ f^ 



-^0^ 

A^^ 



o_ - 











'bV 



' '^^■^^^'' >P -T" 



.* 






.<^ 






^oV" 



^J> * e « o ' -^^ 













-■' X^ 



'^0 

\ o 









'"WW^^ 






-^^0^ 






'(?;. 



.4 '^^ 



°^ "^ ^° ^ "«"•» -y °^ 












* '^'^ -^^^^ ^^y.^^ 




o««, -^o 




















4 ^ 



OVER THE PLAINS 



On The Mountains 



Kansas and Colorado 

Agriculturally, Mineralogically, 



v^STHETICALLY DESCRIBED. 



By J. H. TICK. 



FOR SALE BY 



THE ST. LOUIS BOOK AND NEWS COMPANY, ST. LOUIS, 

The Western News Company, Chicago, 

AMERICAN NEWS COMPANY, NEW YORK. 



M 



E invite the attention of bin-ers, and the trade generally, to our 
Stock of Goods, which Ave believe is as complete and varied 
in the several Departments of BOOKS, STA T10]>IEHY^ 
'^i^"'«'''' ^-ERVOZi/C'^/v.S ^M> NEWSPAPERS, as that of 
''-^- * any Jobbing House in the United States. 

We are prepared to fill all orders with Prompt tie.ss, and at the lowest 
prices for Cttsh. 

Special cure -vill be taken in filling orders for Public or Private 
/libraries. 

.\moiii,r our Misc Ei.i, \NF.oi s and School Books are comprised the 
publications of all the jirincipal Eastern and Western Publishing Houses, 
b\- purchasing wliich. in large cptantities. we are enabled to sell at the 
pul)lishers' lowest rates. Always in stock the pidjjications of 



J.\s. R. Osgood & Co., 

ScRiBN'EK, Armstroxg c^ Co., 
Roberts Bros.. 
Lee & Shepari). 
J. B. LippixcoTT cV Co.. 
C. Desilver, 

Gon.D & Lincoln. 
Harper & Bros., 
Porter \: Coates. 
Little, Brown iV: Co., 
Geo. W. Carleton \' Co.. 

HlRD & HOIGHTON. 

(i. p. Putman & Sons, 
II. C. Baird. 



A. K. LORING. 
O. JlDD & Co., 

A. S. Barnes \' Co., 
E. H. Butler & Co., 
R. S. Davis & Co., 
W. J. Widdleton, 
Brewer \: Tileston, 
.Sheldon i^ Co., 
Wilson. Hinkle & Co.. 
Crocker & Brewster. 
GiNN Bros.. 
CowpKRTHWAiT & Co., 
D. Appleton l^ Co. 
Eldredge & Bro.. 
Nichols cV Hall, 
Holt iV Williams, 



W. W. Harding. 
J. P. .Morton & Co.. 

CLAXTON ReMSEN & HAFFELKIN(iER. 

IvisoN, Blakeman, Taylor & Co.. 

Wool WORTH, Ainsworth \' Co.. 

Thompson, Bigelow i\: Brown. 

Catalogues of our Stock, in its ■•arious drpartnioits. max be had on 
application. 

ST. LOUIS BOOK AND NEWS CO., 

307 North Fourth Street. 

ST. LOUIS. 



OVEK THE PLAINS, 

OX T HK 
OR, 

KANSAS. COLORADO, 

AND THK 

ROCKY MOUNTAINS; 

Agriculturally, Mineralogically 

— AND — 

AESTHETICALLY DESCRIBED. 

/ 

' ' ' '-L — ( 

By JOHN H. T ICE. \^ 

Copyright Securei 



St. Louis, Mo.: 

FEINTED BY THE " IXDUSTRIAL AGE " PROTTING CO. 

1872. 



Entered according to Act of Congress in the year 1872, by 

John H. Tice, 

In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 






PPwEFACE. 



This volume contains the result of personal observations 
made in Kansas and Colorado in the Summer of 1871. By 
a resolution adopted by the Missouri State Board of Agri- 
culture, it was dcterminied in a body and in their official 
capacity, to take an excursion through Kansas, Colorado, 
Wyoming, and if found practicable, to Utah. The object 
was to gain information by pei-sonal observation, of the 
natural resources and agricultural capabilities of the great 
Plains and of the mountain territories, to ascertain the 
state of the branches of industry to which they were adapt- 
ed, the character of the soil and climate, the mode of cul- 
ture, and the j)robable extent to which they would be de- 
pendent upon other sections for supplies especially agri- 
cultural products. An invitation was extended to the 
Kansas State Agricultural Society, to join us in the excur- 
sion, Avhich was cordially accepted. To the liberality of 
the Xorth Missouri, the Kansas Pacific, the Colorado Cen- 
tral, the'Dcnvcr Pacific and the Boulder Yallej^ railroads 
we are indebted for free passes in going and returning over 
their roads; and for which they will please accept the 
most grateful and cordial thanks of the whole party. 

During the excursion, I took full notes of everything 
that fell under my observation, and also of facts elicited 
from conversations with those familiar with the Mountains; 
not with the remotest intention however, of perpetrating 
the infliction of a book upon the patient public, but for my 
own gratification and satisfaction. 

After my return home, I wrote out a few pages of the 
notes tor the Sunday number of one of our leading dailies. 



4 PREFACE. 

These were so favorably received, and excited so mucii 
interest, as to draw upon me scores of letters from all i)artH 
of the country where these sketches found their way. 
Some of these were from persons familiar with the scenes 
described, thanking me for the gratification the reading of 
my notes afforded them in reviving the recollections of the 
sublime and grand scenery of these matchless Mountains, 
and of enabling them mentally to renew the wild enjoy- 
ments, excitements and pleasures of a rude mining life. 
Other letters were from jiarties having various objects in 
\aew; some from those desirous of seeking new homes; 
some from those seeking investments, or solicitous of en- 
gaging in new enterprizes, and others from invalids 
borne doAvn by disease, anxious to know if a cure, or an 
amelioration of their infirmities would not be effected by 
a sojourn in the delightful and salubrious climate of the 
Mountains. All these wanted full and definite information 
on the points in which they felt interested. 

The number of these letters, and the intense anxiety the 
writers exj^ressed for accurate information, first suggested 
the idea of writing out the notes in full and publishing 
them in book form. 

I liave endeavored to meet the expectations and gratify 
the desires of all these questioners, as fi\ras my observations 
extended. Moreover, I have endeavored to supply a Avant 
much needed by pleasure seekers, by making known the 
variety, extent, grandeur and sublimity of the matchless 
scenery of these gigantic Mountains. There is a large and 
increasing class who have the means and leisure to spend 
the hot summer months in fleeing to cooler localities for 
relaxation, recreation and recuperation. Many, but they 
are not the lovers and admirers of Nature, go to the sea- 
shore, or some fashionable watering place, where they pass 
through the same routine of inane amusements and fHvo- 
lous excitements day after day and year after year; and 
return home without their minds enlarged by acquired 
knowledge, their sentiments refined, their taste for the 



PREFACE. 5 

grand and the beautiful quickened, or even their bodies 
invigorated. Yea, worse than that, positive!}^ damaged 
physically, socially and morally, by being irremediably 
inoculated with the virus of the frivolities, follies and vices 
of fashionable life ; not only mind, heart and taste infected 
and perverted, but wasteful and expensive habits con- 
tracted. These " like Ephraim, are joined to their idols," 
and must be let alone. Bat there are those who are not 
yet drawn into the vortex of the maelstrom of iashion. 
To these it will be doing a good office and a grateful ser- 
vice, to direct their attention to the untrodden and as yet 
unfashionable routes of pleasure seekers in these Avild, 
picturesque and indescribably grand and lofty Mountains, 
whei'e in silence and solitude they can hold communion 
with Nature in her most awful, sublime, majestic and im- 
posing forms; and whence they will return home with 
their thoughts enlarged, their affections ennobled, their 
sentiments elevated, their taste refined and their bodies in- 
vigorated , moreover, with lighter and kinder heai-ts and 
heavier purses. Aye, go upon the mountains as 3Ioses did 
and God will appear unto you and converse with you face 
to face. His laws and commandments there written on 
stones, Avill be transcribed and engraven on your hearts; 
and 3'ou, like the Hebrew Lawgiver, will also return to 
your friends with an overflowing heart and a shining face. 



OVER THE PLAINS AM) ON THE MOUNTAINS. 



CHAPTER I. 

On the evening of the fifth of June we set out on our 
journey on board of the evening Express train of the 
]S^orth Missouri Eailroad, The da}' had been intensely 
sultry, and a lowering sky in the AVest indicated the ap- 
proach of a storm. The air seemed stagnant; for not a 
breeze Avas stirring ; and the heat was sweltering and op- 
pressive. Glad were we, when the train commenced mov- 
ing IIS through the air, relieving us from the smothering ef- 
fects of heat, it having the same cooling effect as a wind 
would have of a velocity of twenty-five miles per hour. 
We were therefore soon quite comfortable, which together 
with the novelty of our situation, starting out to experi- 
ence a new sensation, contributed to raise oui- animal spirits, 
and Ave became as cheerful and vivacious a crowd as ever 
had cast dull care aside; and had set out to test how much 
relish and enjoyment, new and strange scenes Avould add 
to pleasure. Clear of the mephitic city air, and through 
the bluffs, Ave Avere soon flying through the beautiful 
Florissant (pronounced Florissaw) Yalley, the Arcadia of 
Missouri, At dusk Ave came to a halt at the end of the 
bridge opposite St. Charles, Avhieh spans the muddy and 
turbulent ]\rissoui-i here. A moment and Ave are in motion 
again, but slowly and cautiously Ave moA'e OA'er the im- 
mense iron structure; already a ncAV sensation for the com- 
pletion of the structure had only been celebrated a feAV days 
previously. Then there Avas still lingering a A'ague feeling 



OVER THE PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. i 

of insecurity induced by the croakings of ill-omened birds, 

who like Dickens' 

"Thompson with a P 
Think the world is going to the Devil 
If they are not hallooing Gee. " 

This feeling of want of safety was intensified by some 
brainless would-be wag, having the morning of our leaving 
perpetrated the miserable pun, 'Hhat a whole train of the 
North Missouri Eailroad had gone through the bridge;" 
which for a while had found credence in its literal sense. 

The ebon shade of night soon fell upon the landscape 
and closed out all save our fiery steed and his luminous 
train. The sky was overcast, and from the Avest the dark 
storm cloud was rolling up with flash on flash of vivid 
lio-htning. Soon at intervals the hoarse rumbling of the 
thunder coming nearer and nearer notified us that we were 
xxpproaching the storm. 

I had gone to a forward car to chat with an acquaintance, 
and when I returned, my attention was arrested while on 
the platform by a most singular display made by myriads 
of fireflies, ( Photynus pyralis ). My first thought was that 
they were sparks from our engine, and with it came the 
thought of danger to the train from being set on fire and 
burned up, for no structure of wood could live in such a 
shower of sparks as that. But I soon saw that they were 
fireflies. Sometimes they emitted a continuous flash, and 
then after a little intermission, it broke out again like 
platoon firing. I also soon observed that thej^ were almost 
exclusively confined to within a rod or so to the railroad 
on both sides. I therefore concluded that they had gath- 
ered from the woods on the young herbage along the sides 
of the railroad ; and being alarmed by the train, had taken 
wing. Back into one of Pnlman's sleeping cars, I was soon 
.stowed away in one of its ample berths. But before I fell 
asleep the storm had set in. The rain was pouring down 
in torrents, and the wind was driving it splash, splash 
.against windows and sides of the car, and then the light- 



5 OVER THE PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 

ning's glare, and the peals of thunder were terrific. I fell 
asleep and woke and fell asleep again, and still the storm, 
raged on and beat against our frail shelter. Day had 
dawned ere we ran from under the rain cloud, yet the sky 
was still black and overcast. It was nine o'clock before 
the blue sky appeared. Bay overtook us at Lexington Junc- 
tion, where the branch railroad from Lexington to St. 
Joseph crosses. The coxmtry hero generally is level prairie, 
and consequently water was standing e\ erywhere, and the 
cornfields looked as if they were drowned out. The creeks 
were booming full to ovei'flowing, and were floating down 
immense quantities of driftwood, which, lodging in the nar- 
row passages between the abutments of the bridges, was 
threatening danger to the structures. Fi'om the same cause 
the culverts were choked up and the water was collecting 
in lakes on the north side of the road. Everywhere the 
indications were of an immense rainfall; the broken limbs 
of trees indicated a severe wind storm also. The soil here 
is regarded as one of the most fertile and jiroductive in the 
AVest, being intensely black, but extremel}^ finable and mel- 
low. The road passes up along the north bank of the river, 
having the muddy Missouri surging in its sandy bed on 
one side, and a most beautiful country of fine farms alter- 
nated with dense forests, on the other. In the forests I could 
not but admire the varied aesthetic forms of Xature, and ob- 
serve how much of the science of the beautiful man has 
yet to learn from her teachings. Here Avas the Tecoma 
radicans smothering a half grown tree, or reclothing with 
verdure the trunk of a dead one, and adorning both with 
its cluster of largo trumpet shape orange flowers. There 
the frost grape, Vitis cordifolia, had obtained the masteiy 
over a well grown elm or hickory, and its long pendant 
vines were swaj-ing to and fro, and often trailing on the 
ground. Yonder the American Ivy, the Ampelopsis quingxie 
folia has decked the trunk of some large elm, sycamore or 
oak, with unsuiiiassing licauty, making it a green column 
supporting an immense ''coronal of green leaves." 



OVER THE PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 9^ 

"We Boou iirrivecl opposite Kansas City and recrossed the^ 
Missouri to the south side on the railroad bridge. Here 
we were joined by two portions of our party, one who had 
preceded us, and the other who came up on the Missouri 
Pacific Eailroad on the south side of the river. Kansas. 
City claims 40,000 inhabitants and has them too, but ap- 
pears only a small village, being mostly hid by the high 
and immense bluffs, on which and amongst which, it is. 
built. It is a natural question to ask ones self: why a lo- 
cation should be selected for a city that "will cost millions, 
to prepare the site, when a mile or so above and a few 
miles below, a better site was already prepared by nature. 
I heard here an anecdote related, which perhaps contains, 
the philosophy of the selection made here: A stranger 
•either in quest of a new field for speculation, or of a new 
home for location, desired to know the price of a corner 
lot perched fifty feet above the grade. Two thou.sand dol- 
lars was the price asked. '' Why that's enormous " said 
the stranger: "do you not see it will have to bo graded 
down fifty feet before it can be used." " That's true " re- 
plied the owner, "but don't you see the fix the owner of 
the corner lot behind on the next street is in ? He is just as 
much below the grade, and he will pay mc twenty-five hun- 
dred dollars for my surplus dirt, and cart it off himself to 
fill up his." Not quite satisfied with this prospect for a 
speculation, ho went in quest of the owner of the other 
corner to ascertain his price. Two thousand dollars Avas 
the reply. " What," said the stranger " two thousand dol- 
lars for that gully ; don't you see that it is fifty feet below . 
the grade, and will have to be filled up ? " " That's so," 
replied the owner, " but don't you see the fix the owner of 
the other corner is in ? He Avill not have any where to 
])ut his surplus earth, and he will pay mc twenty-five hun- 
dred dollars for the privilege of filling up my lot." 

The knights of Wall Street are credited with having in- 
vented many clever schemes in getting up corners of vari- 
ous kinds, but no genius has ever appeared there equal to- 



10 OVER THE PLAINS AND OX THK MOUNTAINS. 

the task of getting up such a brilliant scheme as the loca- 
tion of Kansas City, -where the owner not only sells his 
•corners for enormous prices, but the purchasers gets them 
for nothing and a large bonus besides. 

After breakfast at the State Line, we got abroad of the 
train of the Missouri Pacific for Atchison in Kansas, forty 
.seven miles distant. Crossing the Kaw or Kansas river, 
we passed through the western cdgeof AYyandotto, a flour- 
ishing and thrifty town, lying to our rightonthe west bank 
■of the Missouri, which here has a general course nearly 
«outh though after receiving the Kaw it turns cast. The 
bluffs soon make their appearance to our left, intermitting 
tsometimes however to afford a passage for a creek, and leav- 
ing a level plain of extent enough for a number of fine 
farms. These bluffs are -covered with the timber generally 
abounding in Illinois and Missouri, including the Coffee 
Nut, {Gymnodadiis Canadensis,) and a dense thicket of 
hazle sumach, and other undergrowth. The soil consists of 
broken chert and limestone, covered by a black loam and 
vegetable humus. We soon passed the city of Leavenworth, 
which the railroad and expressmen spell '' 11 worth" for 
^short, and the Fort of same name, situated on a high bluff just 
north of the city, around whoso base the i-ailroad winds. 
Opposite the Fort, a railroad bridge is constructing over 
■the Missouri Eiver for the South-West Railroad. The 
■piers, consisting of immense tubular colums of iron filled 
-with grout, were up and ready to receive the superstruc- 
ture. The railroad will land on the top ofthe bluff in 
■the militai-y grounds. 

Several small pleasant villages lie on our route before 
we reach Atchison one of the tastiest, handsomest and 
Tnost thriving towns in the "West. It claims a population 
of 10,000, and is as busy, wide awake aiid enter])rising a 
city as can l)e found anywhere ; and which is making it- 
self the railroad centre of northeast Kansas. It has rail- 
road connections with the Hannibal and St. Joseph Rail- 
4'oad which connects it with Chicaijo and the East bv the 



OVER THE PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 11 

roads running through Central Illinois ; with the North 
Missouri and Missouri Pacific Eoads which connect it with 
St Louis and the South and East with the Central Bi-anch 
■of the Union Pacific, which will ultimately connect it with 
the AYest and the coast of the Pacific ; with the Atchison 
and Nebraska Pailroad now constructing and graded to the 
State line, connecting it with Omaha and the North; and 
with the South and Southwest by the following roads partly 
constructed or xmder contract and work commenced, name- 
ly: Atchison, Topeka and SanteFeEai]road; Atchison Os- 
kaloosa and Lawrence Eailroad. It is not a mushroom town, 
but its growth has been gradual, steady and permanent. 
It has three large flourmills, four sawmills, two wagon 
manufiictories, one large furniture manufactory, etc. 

On our arrival we were received by Mayor Smith in be- 
half of the large concourse of citizens assembled to wel- 
come us. But as I stepped on the platform I instantly 
recoo-nized in the crowd. Dr. Wm. H. Gi'imes, an old acquain- 
tance whom I had not seen for thirty-seven years, with 
whom I revived reminiscences of " lang syne " until the 
ceremony of reception %vas over. I also met another ac- 
quaintance here, Gen. B. F. Stringfellow, conspicuous in the 
Missouri raids some sixteen'and more years ago, of Avhich he 
had the reputation of being the life and soul. Yet here he was 
in a Yankee town of the most intense Yankee proclivities, 
thoroughly reconstructed, and as enterprising, energetic 
and progressive as any of them. I was not more surprised 
to find him here, than I was at the completeness with which 
be has yielded to the current that sweeps everything on- 
ward here with irresistible force. The peculiarity of Kan- 
sas society everywhere, is that the whole community is in- 
tensely in earnest, and seems to work as though it had but 
one mind and one purpose. This is a main reason, for 
that unexemplified progress and prosperity that marks al! 
sections of the State. True, it requires intelligence to be- 
come master of the situation ; and to see what is to be 
done ; but when this is seen, then it requires, will, purpose, 



12 OVER THE PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 

persistent and united effort to achieve it. Consequently 
Kansas Avill undertake and successfully accomplish, the 
most weighty enterjirizes iii less time than it takes the 
more sluggish and discordant elements of the older States 
to arrive at a conclusion of Avhat Avere best to do. Majoi* 
W. F. Downs, the General Superintendent of the Central 
Branch of the Union Pacific Railroad, had provided for us 
an extra train to take us to Waterville, the present ter- 
minus of the road, just one hundred miles west from here. 
We Avcro accompanied by many of the jirinciple citizens 
of Atchison, with whom we spent a most agreeable time 
going and returning. 

For several miles the country is diversified by hill and 
dale; the hills rising but to a moderate height, and where- 
not occupied by tarms, have a dense growth of young oak, 
hickory, Avalnut, and other trees indigenous to the West.. 
How the seeds from Avhich they si^rung got there, puzzles, 
the citizens ; for when the settlers first came these hills 
were covered with prairie grass with no sign of any other 
groAvth. I confess I cannot account for it, but it is an oc- 
currence that happens CA^eryAvhere ; not only in Kansas, 
but in the West, Avherever the fire is kept out of prairies, 
contiguous to timber, a young forest groAVth immediately 
springs up. Many of the citzens of St. GeneAueA^e, Missouri,., 
recollect the time Avhen the Illinois bottom opposite to^ 
their toAvn, Avas a treeless prairie. Noav it is a dense forest,,. 
with SA'camore, cottonAvood, Avalnut, linden, j^ecan and oak 
trees from thirty to forty inches in diameter. 

The first village, Farmington, is twelve and a lialf miles. 
Avest of Atchison. It is situated in a rich, inululating coun- 
try, which is thickly settled, and Avell timbered. Three 
miles further is Monrovia on the south bank of Stranger 
Creek, surrounded by a rich countjy. It has a beautiful 
Kite, and is the oldest tOAvn on the road. Some three miles 
farther is Eifingham, a ncAv and thriving A'illage. I Avill 
here state that all the tOAvns and villages along the road 
have good public school houses, and one or more churches„ 



OV£K i'HE PLAINS AND OX THE MOUPfTAINS. 13 

The next town, one of the largest, is Museoutah, handsome- 
ly located on the banks of the Grasshopper, which affords 
fine water-power. It is just on the edge of the Kickapoo 
Reserve, in one of the richest sections ofthe State. Senator 
Pomeroy lives here, lie has a highly improved farm in 
the vicinity. Maj. Do\vns, the Supei'intendent ofthe rail- 
road, also has a splendid farm near town. Both he and 
Mr. Pomero}-, have on their farms some ofthe best blooded 
-stock in the State. 

Here Ave savr the Kickapoo chief Parthe, who was in 
town with his squaw and papoose. Ho brought the latter 
up to see the engine, but it became so frightened, as to 
scream and struggle, and he had hard work to hold it ; but 
when the band struck up it became perfectly frantic. He 
.and his squaw were dressed in the costume ofthe whites. 
Poor fellow, ho has since been murdered by a half breed. 
He was represented as a good man, had himself been natu- 
ralized, and was influencing his j^copleto become both civi- 
lized and naturalized. At every session ofthe courts, from 
eight to fifteen, are invested with the rights, duties, privi- 
leges, franchises and responsibilities of American citizen- 
ship. They cultivate the soil to some extent, but are more 
generally engaged in stock raising. They have a system 
of public, schools and good school houses, where all the 
-<',hildrcn of the tribe are educated. They are entirely 
peaceable, and the whites deal honestly with them, and 
treat them with the greatest kindness. 

Six miles beyond Museoutah is Whiting; and five and a 

half miles beyond it is Netawaka, a prosperous town of six 

■ stores, two hotels ; and a weekly paper, the Herald, is 

published here. Both those places are in the Kickapoo 

Pleservc. 

The next town is "Wetmore, having four stores, a grain 
ware-house, etc., then comes Sherman, a railroad station at 
the fiftieth mile post from Atchison, surrounded by a most 
©eautiful and rich agricultural country. Corning is a flour- 
Ishina: town seven miles farther West. Then comes Cen- 



14 OVER THE PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 

Iralia at the sixty-second mile post, one of the hxrgest and 
most prosperous towns on the line. Vermillion comes 
next, and then Frankfort, a large and thriving town. The 
Vermillion river close by, aifords fine water-power. 

Next comes Barretts, a thriving village, having a saw mill 
and excellent water-power, with plenty of timber in the vi- 
cinity. Elizabeth, another village three miles beyond, has. 
a finequality of magnesian limestone for building purposes. 
The next is Irving, ninety miles from Atchison ; it is a 
most enterprising, prosperous town. A newspaper, the 
Mecorder, is j^ublished here. Besides having the most com- 
modious public school-house in Northern Kansas, it has the 
*' Wetmore Institute," an excellent institution of learning. 
The town is situated just beyond the Big Blue. 

Blue Eapids, five miles beyond, is a colonial settlement, 
from New York, about a year old. It has some seventy- 
houses, two stores, sawmill, hotel, etc. It has fine -vVater- 
power, and steps have been taken to make it available for 
manuflicturing purjjoses. Waterville is situated at the pres- 
ent terminus of the railroad, one hundred miles Avest of At- 
chison. It is about five years old, has twenty stores, four 
hotels, gristmill, wagon manufactory^, etc. It is beautifully 
situated near grassy bluffs, some two miles south of the Little 
Blue, which here comes in from the northwest skirted by a 
belt of timber. The citizens had prepared for us a sumptuous- 
banquet, to furnish which every zone and climate on the 
globe, were laid under contribution. It was surprising to 8ee= 
here, on the outskirtsof civilization, whither the first wave 
of immigration had rolled only a few years previous, the 
luxuries of the Old and New World, and of both the Indies 
brought together to furnish a banquet that the proudest 
princes cannot excel. After dinner was dispatched then 
came the speeches, which were fully equal to the best effort 
that such occasions call forth elsewhere. But this is not 
saying much however ; for postprandium speeches every^ 
where amongst us, show, that we as a nation arc running- 
more into gab than into thought. 



OVER THE PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 15' 

After dinner we examined some beautiful blocks of mag^ 
nesian limestone, and also an immense block of g;yi)sum 
quarried out of the hills. Upon invitation we ascended the 
grassy bluff behind and south of the church. The sides^ 
though covered with grass, Avcre stony, apparently for the 
most part fragmentary chert ; and amongst the grass th& 
beautiful rose colored flowers of the Sensitive Briar 
{Schrankia uncinata) and the no less beautiful and large- 
purple blooms of the Penstemon grandiiiorus. A splendid 
carmine colored Phlox also abounded everywhere. 

The soil on the top of the bluff is a deep rich loam, bear- 
ing a heavy crop of prairie grass. To the west, south 
and east is a boundless prairie; while north, beyond the 
fine valley at your feet, through which runs the Little Blue^ 
the view is bounded by the timber belt along that stream.. 
In other directions no timber was visible, though it is said 
to be abundant on a tributary of the Blue some ten miles, 
off to the southwest j and also beyond that in the valley of 
the Republican, and its affluents. There are a considerable 
number of new houses dotting the prairies surrounded by 
the newly broken sod. The bluffs arc mere swells rising 
to moderate elevations, say none exceeding a height of 
fifty feet. Though sometimes pretty steep, they are smooth- 
ly rounded off, and covered by the luxuriant green prairie. 
grass. In fact so artistically are they rounded and dressed^ 
that they look like immense sodded bastions around a for- 
tification. 

I will here state that the rural landscape along the entire 
route is not emotional as far as exciting the turbulent feel- 
ings of the Avonderful and sublime are concerned; but ort 
the contrary it inspires the quiet and soothing emotions of 
absolute peace, tranquility, contentment and repose. Look- 
ing at it until you imbibe its spirit, you think it almost an 
impossibility that men dwelling in such a quiet, peaceable- 
Arcadia as this, would become, or ever could become ruffled^ 
and show the stronger and rougher passions of the human 
heart. 



.16 OVER THE PLAIXS AND OS THE MOUNTAINS. 

Waterville is in the western part of Marshall county. 
Washington County lies we^it, and has already a oonsid- 
erablo ]>o])idation, though all the scttlcnients are of quite 
recent date. AVest of Washington is liepublie county, 
crossed diagonally from its north-west to its south-east 
corner by the Eepublican river. This is, or was the west- 
ern limits of settlement at the beginning of the present 
;sea8on. All these counties are bounded north by the state 
line, that is by Nebraska. 

On board the cars again, we were soon on our way back, 
stopping at Blue IJapids, and paying a visit to the dam, 
constructed by the colonists across the Blue, just below the 
junction of the Little Blue, which has its sources to the 
north-west in ISTebraska, and the Big Blue which heads 
north, also in I^ebraska, near the Platte river. Blue 
Rapids is about a mile and a half from the railroad station. 
The citizens had come in wagons and other vehicles to 
■ convey us thither; but they had not calculated on quite so 
large a party, consequently all could not get accommoda- 
tions, of which unfortunate class I happened to be one. 
Some however, walked; but as I thought a Avalk of three 
miles in such a sweltering day would not pay, I remained 
at the station. It was near sundown when the party re- 
turned. They found the citizens celebrating the com2)le- 
tion of their iron bridge across the Blue on the abutments 
of the dam, by a pic-nic. The guests were invited to walk 
across by the colonists; on their return they were halted, 
a charge made along the whole line, (one dollar,) by an 
artist who had gone vip on the train, and then photo- 
graphed; a copy of which was to have been delivered to 
each, a condition that he has not yet been able to comply 
with. 

These colonists have adopted the only plan of speedy 
success with such an enterprise, and at the same time 
avoiding the evils of non-emi^loyment, and consequent suf- 
fering and privation. They have selected as beautiful and 
.as rich an agricultural location as there is in the West; 



OVER THE PL.\INS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 17 

having at the same time a site furnishing any desirable 
amount of water-power. They have already completed a 
dam which makes that water-power available. A sawmill 
is in operation, and a gristmill of tho largest size almost 
completed ; woolen and other manufactories arc to follow 
in rapid succession, and the colony will be more than a, 
self-sustaining community before the end of another year. 
I did not learn whether the colonists own tho capital in- 
vested or not. 

Underway again; it was dusk when we crossed the Blue 
at Irving, reaching Atchison near twelve o'clock, where we 
found a special train to take us to Leavenworth, where 
we arrived at half past one in the morning. 

The following may be taken as a general summary of 
the features, character, quality of soil, sanitary condition, 
etc., of the country between Atchison and Waterville. 

The soil is deejD and rich, even on the upland jDrairie. 
Timber abounds in considerable quantities, and is well dis- 
tributed. Here the jirairies arc seen generally to be 
bounded by timber, while along all brooks and creeks the 
forest is heavy. In this there is a great differencO between 
a landscape here and that of the great prairies in Illinois, 
Iowa and Missouri, where the whole horizon includes but 
one single continuous treeless i)lain. 

The drainage is perfect, since the country is rolling, but 
only in gentle swells, while the river bottoms, several 
miles in Avidth, are flanked by hills of considerable eleva- 
tion. There is a strong current in all the streams, the wa- 
ter consequently is clear and pure. There are no stagnant 
pools nor low wet and marshy lands to poison the air 
with miasma. True, there are bilious diseases, but so 
there are everywhere, where new clearings are nuide, and 
virgin soil broken up and exposed to a midsummer sun. 
These diseases however are of a mild type, and decrease 
as the quantit}' of newly broken jirairie diminishes from 
year to year, and almost entirely disa2?pear when all the 

land is brought under cultivation. This conforms to ex- 
2 



18 OVER THE PLAINS AND ON THE .MOUNTAINS. 

perieiicc everywhere, cither east or Avest. That bilious 
diseases become milder and less frequent as the country 
settles up, is a well established fact. Time was when 
chills and fever were just as prevalent \n the Genessee 
valley as ever they were in Illinois. 

The bluffs that flank the valley often are stony, and 
some even expose ledges of rocks. They are so abundant 
in some j^laces, that we saAV quite a number of stone fences 
along the route. 

Springs of pure cold water are numerous along the whole 
route, and are said to exsist westward indefinitoly. On 
the highest prairies the best, pure and cold water can be 
obtained by sinking wells from 20 to 50 feet. 

Wood is still generally used for fuel, costing from three 
to four dollars a cord. Eut it has been ascertained that 
extensive coal beds underlie the country, from two to 
tour feet in thickness. At several j^laces, these beds have 
been opened, and are now worked. 

The Grasshopper, Vermillion and Blue rivers furnish a 
large amount of water-power, and sawmills arc found along 
all of these streams. The price of native lumber is from 
815 to $25 per thousand feet. 

Besides, stone, board and wire fences, we saw quite a num- 
ber of osage oi'ange hedges planted, and some pretty well es- 
tablished. I should think the country from its abundant 
fresh Avater, large range covered with luxuriant grasses, and 
fine climate, well adapted to stock raising and dairying pur- 
poses. These no doubt now and for an indefinite time 
to come will be as remunerative as any other business what- 
ever. 

I could not obtain any reliable data of how much public 
land there remains subject to entry, homestead or pre-emp- 
tion. The railroad has a grant of land of every alternate 
section for ten miles on each side of the road. They hold 
them from two to eight dollars per acre, with a liberal dis- 
count for cash. They will sell them also on a credit of 
three, four, six and ten years at different rates of interest, 



OVER THE PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 19 

according to time. Full particulars can be ascertained from 
the General Superintendent and Land Agent of the road, 
Maj. W. F. Downs. The amount of corn, wheat and pota- 
toes raised per acre, is equal to the highest figures attained 
in Missouri and Iowa. In fact the quantities reported seem 
like marvelous stories. But from the character of the soil 
and nature of the climate, there can be no doubt that the 
yield is enormous. 



20 OVEK THE PLAINS AND ON XUK MOUNTAINS. 



CHAPTEE 11. 

After breakfast we found carriages provided by the citi- 
zens in readiness to give iis a drive through and around the 
city. AVe drove uji one of the main streets to the Military 
Grounds just north of the cit}-. These grounds are very ex- 
tensive, and arc elaborately laid ofi' into plots, on which are 
situated, surrounded with flowers and shrubbery, expensive 
mansions for the accommodation of the numerous officers 
always located here. This is the Headquarters of the Trans- 
Mississippi Military Department, where men and military 
stores are collected for distribution to the Upper Missouri, 
Colorado, Upper Arkansas and Xew Mexico. The barracks 
are very large to accommodate the soldiers concentrated 
here from the malarious Gulf States for recuperation, and 
from the JSTorthwestern, Western and Southwestern Terri- 
tories for relaxation. The military reservation is a most 
beautiful ti-act, containing GOOO acres. The part occupied is 
a level plateau on a high bluif, whence there is a command- 
ing view of the city of Leavenworth to the south, which it 
entirely overlooks ; the Missouri Eiver for many miles both 
up and down and the rich bottom or valley east ; and west 
a fine undulating country of hill and dale, as far as sight 
extends. 

After driving through the military grounds, we drove 
south-cast to the edge of the blutf, and dismounted to look 
at the structure, a stone abutment, in process of erec- 
tion at the terminus of the bridge, on top of the bluff, for 
the Chicago and Southwestern Eailroad, and also of the 
piers of the bridge, then ready to receive the superstruct- 
ure. 

The bridge is to be wrought iron, placed upon piers of cast 



OVER THE PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 21 

iron, the columns of which are now in position. As this 
Avas a novelty to mo in civil engineering, I will briefly de- 
scribe it. The sections of the columns arc eight and a half 
ieet in diameter, ten feet in length and one and three quar- 
ter inches thick, and weigh about ten tons each. "With 
proper flanges at the ends, these sections are joined in the 
process of sinking, so as to form a continuous cylinder, 
reaching from the superstructure to the solid rock on the 
bottom of the river. The whole is then filled up with 
concrete masonry and grouting. Two of these columns 
placed side and side longitudinally with the current, form 
one jjicr. There are three of these piei*s, tM'o in the river, 
and one on the eastern shore j the bridge to land on the 
western shore on a stone abutment. The elevation is ten 
feet above the high water line. Each of the three spans 
thus formed, will be three hundred and forty feet in length; 
and the bottom of the lower chord fifty feet above extreme 
high water, so that steamboats can pass at an}' stage of the 
river. The approach to the eastern end of the bridge con- 
sists of trestle work, 1500 feet long, and an earth embank- 
ment extending 2500 feet further, both of which are com- 
pleted. It is contemplated to make this bridge a common 
union for the crossing of all railroads terminating here, 
both from the East and West. 

Remounting our carriages, we were driven back through 
the military grounds, and west on and along the heights 
that surround the city. These were at some places quite 
stony, covered Avith a young and low growth of forest 
trees, interspei'sed with the many wild flowers indigenous 
to this section. We now for the first time realized the 
charming location of the city. We could look down the 
Missouri river south-eastwardly fully twenty miles, and 
both shores appeared one unbroken forest of gigantic trees. 
But right below us, on the banks of the river, in an am- 
phitheatre of some three or four miles in length, two miles 
in depth, and gradually rising to our position, is nestled the 
city of Leavenworth, containing fully 25,000 inhabitants. 



22 OVER THK PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 

To the west, and at the dietancc uf about half a mile, liea 
the valley of Salt Creek, a stream that debouches into the 
3Iissouri above the Fort. Our position must have been at 
least two hundred feet above this valley, a2)parently two 
miles in width, and surrounded on all sides b}^ heavily 
timbered and high hills. It was one of the finest rural 
pictures I ever beheld. In the centre at the widest part 
arises a rounded hill, about sixty feet high, of perhaps 
eighty acres in area and heavily timbered ; while all around 
it lay the most neat, tidy and thrifty farms in the highest 
tilth. It reminded me of the landscape and scenery of my 
boyhood's home in the Tuscaroras. 

We now drove to the residence of Professor Pcrcival G. 
Lowe, whei'C we j^artook of some of his cherries and straw- 
berries and some native wine. After walking through his 
garden and grounds of shrubbery, we drove to the south- 
ern limits of the city, and then returned towards its cen- 
tral ])arts, but were Iji'ought to a halt before the spacious 
mansion of Gen. J. 0. Stone where wo dismounted, and 
were received by the General and his estimable lady in 
the most cordial and hospitable manner. Ushered into 
his drawing room, we spent some time in admiring the 
fine specimens of art, both in painting and sculpture. Of 
the former but very few were fancy pieces, representing 
mostly noted wild landscape scenery in Europe and 
America. 

The doors Avere now thrown oj^cn, and we found our 
host had with a muniticence that would do honor to a 
prince, prepared a most sumptuous dinner for us. There 
were spring chickens, ham, butTalo tongue, pies, cakes and 
pastry of every imaginable kind, an exhaustive assort- 
ment of comfits and eandies, together with ice cream 
Then there were the largest, finest and most luscious 
strawberries and cherries, all raised on his flirm near the 
city, besides the choicest native wines. 

Before leaving the mansion of our hospitiible host, we 
were invited to inspect an upper room, completely decorated 



OVER THE PLAINS AND ON" THE MOUNTAINS. 23 

with military caps, and other German military paraphernalia 
brought home by the General's son, who has just returned 
after graduating in a German university. I never saw a 
native so completely Germanized as he; and so charmed 
was ho Avith university life in Germany, that he spoke en- 
thusiastically of it. We could not, however, admire or 
commend all the features of such a life, that for instance 
of the barbarous custom of resorting on every occasion to 
single combat, to avenge any real or fancied insult. Our 
young friend bears on his otherwise handsome face and 
manl}' brow, many ugly scars from sword wounds received 
in such encounters. 

After taking a most cordial leave of our munificent host 
and his estimublo lady, we returned to the hotel to await 
the departure of the evening train for Lawrence; mean- 
while I took mentally a business review of the city and 
its surroundings. 

Leavenworth has naturally one of the most favorable 
sites for a commercial city. Situated on the west bank df 
the Missouri river, it has water communication with all 
the states of the Mississippi A^alley and the Gulf, and with 
the gold and silver producing territories of the upper Mis- 
souri. But in these days, no city has any hold on, nor sec- 
nrit}' for permanent commercial prosperity, by having only 
water communication with the outside world. The arte- 
ries of commerce now are of iron, instead of water, as 
formerly. In foreign commerce, water communication 
will alwaj's hold an incontestible superiority, but it can 
no longer control the commercial movements within the 
interior of a continent. To concentrate and distribute the 
j^roducts of a continent and of the world, railroads have 
an unquestioned pre-eminence over all other modes of 
transportation. In casting the horoscope of any city's 
2>ermanent growth and prosperity, her railroad access- 
ability and facilities must be considered. Applying this 
principle to Leavenworth, it will be seen that the auguries 
for the future are most auspicious. She is now connected 



24 OVER THE PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 

by way of St. Louis, with the East, the Centre and the 
South by the Missouri Paciiic, and the Missouri Yalloy and 
North Missouri railroads ; with Chicago and with the East 
and North, by the Chicago, Burlington and Quincy, the 
Hannibal and St. Joseph, and the Missouri Yallc}-, the Rock 
Island and Pacific, and tho Chicago and Southwestern 
railroads; with the North, the North-west and the Pacific 
coast, first, by way of Council Bluffs, by the Missouri Yal- 
ley and St. Joseph and Council Bluff railroads; second, 
by way of Denver by tho Leavenworth, Lawrence and 
Galveston and the Kansas Pacific railroads. The Leaven- 
worth, Atchison and Northwestern railroad, now in process 
of construction, M'ill connect it with Omaha, opposite Coun- 
cil Bluffs. The Union Central branch of the Union Pacific 
railroad, now completed to "Waterville, will when com- 
pleted, give it direct communication with San Francisco. 
With the South-west, with the Leavenworth, Topeka and 
Santa Fe railroad, now completed to Newton, within 20 
miles of the Arkansas river; and with the Gulf and the 
South direct, by the Leavenworth, Lawrence and Galves- 
ton railroad. Besides these there are several railroads 
under contract and the work progressing, and several 
more projected. Amongst those under contract and in a 
state of progress,* the most important is a narrow gauge to 
Denver, thence to Santa Fe, with branches through Middle 
Park to Salt Lake Yallc}', and to Helena in Montana, by 
Avay of Cheyenne. It will be thus seen that lA^iven worth 
now is well HU})plied with railroad facilities which are an- 
nually extending. There arc five daily newspapers, four 
in English and one German, pu])lishcd here, besides 
several weeklies and mojithlies. Tliere are about one 
hundred and twenty manuiacturing establishments, tho 
aggregate products of which are estimated annually to ex- 
ceed 82,500,000. 

At thirty minutes after four we lefl for Lawrence on 
the Leavenworth, Lawrence and Galveston Riilroad. 

Tho country between Leavenworth and Fairmont is gen- 



OVER TIIF. PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 



25- 



erally heavily timbered with the varieties of trees that are in- 
ditrenouB to the country ; such as Sycamore, Cottonwood, wil- 
low, elm, hickory, oak, hackberry, and walnut. The Ken- 
tucky cofFccnut((T2/m7ioda(iM5 Canadejis is) and two species of 
the honey locust {Gleditchia triacanthos, and G.monosperma} 
and the Eed bud oceuiTod occasionally. A young growth 
has also sprung up on what was formerly prairie, which 
has attained considerable height. The undergrowth is 
principally hazel and sumach. The different species of 
wild "-rape are also conspicuous everywhere. There are 
many fine farms along the line, but Avhere man has not ta- 
ken possession of the prairie, the forest trees have, so that east 
of Fairmont and for some distance west the prairies have 
practically disappeared. The country around Fairmont 
is rich and beautiful with a black friable soil. The surface 
undulates into gentle swells affording good drainage. 

Westward the character of the country changes somewhat. 
The varieties oftimbcr peculiar to the river bottoms appear 
no lono-er, being replaced by more valuable varieties, such 
as oaks and hickories. The undergrowth of hazel, sumach 
and wild grapevines continues in the forest, but there now 
occur small glades of grassy plain called "openings."" 
These are enameled with the beautiful carmine Phlox al- 
ready mcnsioned, the prairie, and dog rose, the Tradescan- 
thia Virginlca, Sehraiikia . uncinata, white perennial lark- 
spur, the purple Polanisia, blue Penstcmons. etc. Amongst 
weeds I noticed an ash colored Artemisia, the daisy flea- 
bane (Erlgeron a7inuum) the Rosin-weed, or Compass-plant 
{Silphiam ladnlatum) and several species of Helianthus. 

Tonganoxie, a small village, is situated on a fine rolling 
prairie, surrounded by beautiful farms. Westward the 
prairies become larger and the swells culminate in hills of 
moderate height. Reno is the next village surrounded by 
a rich farming country. The wheat crop generally along 
the route was heavy, and fully ripe on the 7th of June when 
we passed there. 

A rather singular incident occurred here. While the 



26 OVKR THK PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 

train stopped, some of tho passengers got out and commenced 
■caressing u colt belonging to a team standing at the sta- 
tion, and linally got it on the jihitform. When the train 
started, the colt got on the track and followed the train 
fully a mile, putting forth its best efforts to keep up, but 
of course was distanced. When Ave arrived at the railroad 
station at Lawrence, we found eonvcA^ances in charge of the 
Hon. I. 8. Kalloch, President of the Kansas State Agricul- 
tural .Society. Ho addressed us a few pertinent words, to 
this effect, that here were conveyances to take us to the El- 
dridge House, that we must consider ourselves as the guests 
of the State Society, who would pay all hotel and other ex- 
penses, andevonformedicine while Ave remained in the city. 
.•and therefore, as he had captured and made prisoners of us, 
;all we could do was to get aboard the 'busses, carriages, etc., 
as resistance was useless. Comprehending the situation, 
our party yielded with the greatest grace possible, and were 
rapidly driven over the bridge and tip Massachusetts street, 
:and set down at the Eldridge House. The Kansas Pacific 
railroad depot at which we landed, is on the north side of 
tho river, while the city proper of Lawrence is on the 
south side. 

The Kaw is a rapid stream some two hundred yards wide, 
and is spanned by a substantial bridge, which connects the 
northern suburb and the Kansas Pacific railroad depot with 
the city. The L. L. and Galveston railroad crosses the 
Kaw below, and has its depot near the eastern limits of the 
•city on tho south side of the river. 

As the Eldridge House is the largest and one of the best 
kept hotels west of St. Louis, it cost us no effort to recon- 
•cile ourselves to our situation as prisoners. The kind treat- 
ment of the keeper and the attentive and obliging disposi- 
tion of the servants, but above all the sjilendid supper, spa- 
cious rooms and elegant beds, rather made us like the oper- 
ation of being "put through " in that way. 

B}' the way this Eldridge House has a history. The 
.abrogation of the Missouri Compromise, which excluded 



OVER THE PLAIN'S AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. Zi 

slavery fi*om all territory north of thirty-six and a half de- 
grees of north latitude, and the passage of the Kansas-Ne- 
braska bill by Congress, actually initiated the conflict which 
culminated in the rebellion and the abolition of slavery. 
This of course could have been foreseen would the result, 
of that illstarrcd measure. It actually was foreseen, and 
moreover predicted by such farseeing men as Benton and 
others who resisted the passage of the act, by all the pow- 
er that reason, persuasion and parliamentary law and tac- 
tics afforded ; but their efforts were powerless. 

The syren, " Squatter Sovereignty " sang too charmingly 
io be resisted by a great man}- well-meaning and patriotic 
men ; and the bill was passed under the delusion that set- 
tlement would be suftered to go on quietly and peaceably 
until State governments were to bo organized in these ter- 
ritories. But the march of events from the beginning dis- 
pelled that delusion, if any one ever seriously entertained 
it. Emigrant societies were organized in most of the north- 
ern States, especially in Massachusetts, to settle these terri- 
tories, particularly Kansas. These, though ai-tizans and 
iagriculturists, and coining with the intention of becoming 
bona fide settlers, came also prepared to meet any emer- 
gencies that might arise, hence the " Sharp's rifles " of which 
we heard so much, at that time. The extremists of the South 
in the Gulf States, and even in Georgia and other southern 
States, organized military companies and sent them to 
Kansas, not for settlement, but to prevent settlement from 
the northern States. A conflict at once ensued, which ended 
in a repulse of the southern military organizations, who re- 
treated over the border, and there in conjunction with bad 
men in Missouri, organized marauding and murdering expe- 
diitions into the territory. One ofthese expeditions sacked 
,a,nd burnt Lawrence. The eai'liest colony from Massachu- 
setts had selected Lawrence as a point d'appul for the settlers 
and had built the Eldridge House, then the most expensive 
and commodious building in Kansas, for the accommoda- 
tion ofstraneccrsand settlers while looking out suitable Io- 



28 OVER THE PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 

calities for settlement. The marauders came and first bat- 
tered it down with cannon and then burnt it. It was imme- 
diately rebuilt, larger and more costly than before. It was. 
a second time burnt in the murderous expedition of the 
infamous Quantrell. Phenix like, it again arose from its- 
ashes enlarged and beautified; and is this day one of the 
best appointed hotels in the West. 

Lawrence has many large and elegant buildings for bus- 
iness purposes, especially on Massachusetts street. Many 
of the pi'ivato residences are expensive and elegant ^ 
especially on the knolls that surround the city to the 
west and south, which are covered with most costly and 
tasty mansions surrounded by lawns, shrubbery and flower 
plots. The churches and public schools are also large, 
Tasteful and expensive. The State University on Mount 
Oi*ead overlooking the city from the southwest, is one of the* 
inost elegant buildings in the West. It will cost when com- 
pleted nearly half a million, of which amount Lawrence eon- 
tributed §300,000. It is built of a yellow arcnacious niagne- 
sian limestone half dressed ; is four stories high, surmounted 
by two quadrangular domes and two turrets. Its style of 
artichitecture is the " Rennaissance. " 

Lawrence has a population of 10,000, and is rapidly in- 
<"reasing in all the elements of wealth and j)rospei'it\r 
There are no idle heads nor hands here. 



OVSIB THE PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 29 



CHAPTEE III. 

At eight o'clock on the following morning, June 8th, vre 
found carriages ready to convey us to the depot of the 
Leavenworth, Lawrence and Galveston Railroad, to take 
.an excursion to the end of the road, at Thayer, one hun- 
dred and eight miles south of this point.* We were in- 
debted for this pleasure to Maj. Charles E. Peck, the Gen- 
eral Freight Agent of the road, who had a special train 
provided for the occasion. Nearly all the members of the 
Kansas State Agricultural Society had joined us now, to 
aecomijany us to Colorado. For the day's excursion, some 
one hundred of the leading citizens of Lavvrence joined us, 
headed by Mayor Thatcher. Everything being in readi- 
ness we started towards the sunny South. A heavy storm 
cloud seemed to lay across our way some fifty or sixty 
miles distant. Otherwise the sky was perfectly clear, but 
the weather was sweltering, and the sun shone bright and 
intensely hot. The day previous a heavy rain had passed 
over this section, and there was, therefore, no dust to 
annoy us, but !N^aturo seemed to have put on her gayest 
attire and brightest smile to greet and welcome us. To 
our right, and beyond Lawrence, lay Mount Oread, 
crowned by the superb edifice of the State University. 
The elevation slopes gently southward to the Wakarusa, 
some five miles distant. For several miles the sides and 
summit of this beautiful swell are covered with stately 
mansions, the sumptuous suburban residences of the wealthy 
business men of the city, surrounded by lawns, shrubbery, 
fruit trees, flower-plots, etc. Soon these arc replaced by 



*Since then it has been completed to Coffevvillc, on the Virdigria 
river, where it enters the Indian Territory'. 



30 OVER THE PL,\INS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 

the neat and tidy farm house, surrounded by fields and 
meadows in the highest tilth, and threaded by osagc- 
orange hedges. The Wakarusa hero runs about duo east^ 
and its immediate valley or bottom is heavily timbered^ 
To the southeast, beyond the AYakarusa, is an elevation 
called Blue Mountain, a heavily timbered hill, rising per- 
haps six hundred feet above the plain. It is a beautiful 
feature in the landscape. 

Passing beyond the timber skirting the last named 
stream, the road enters a beautiful rolling prairie, studded 
over with fine farms, but there are still immense stretches 
of unbroken prairie, covered with a luxuriant growth of 
wild grass, and at this season, enameled with wild flow- 
era of every hue. The only new species I noticed, except an 
^•Esdepias with immense dull greenish yellow blooms, was- 
the (Enothera Speciosa, generally called by flourists. 
Godetia. Of these there were two varieties; one, the 
most abundant, was a pure white with a purple center; 
the other was a delicate pink. Sometimes both varieties 
were intermixed in large beds. Then, with their large 
blooms expanding fully two and a half inches, they were a 
most charming sight. For some eighteen miles, the roll- 
ing prairie was destitute of trees, except the orchards of 
the farmers and the young groves they have planted. As 
we approach the Marias des C3'gncs, a tributary of the 
Osage, we enter a forest sometimes consisting of rich bot- 
tom land, and then again of rocky hills. The stream runs 
southeastward)}-, and was much swollen by the heavy 
rain on the previous evening. 

After emerging from the forest, a few miles brought us. 
to the city of Ottawa, the county seat of Franklin county. 
I should estimate its population between three and four 
thousand. It has a bank, several good hotels, churches 
and fine jiublic schools. Its principal street is substantially 
built up with brick and stone houses. It has various 
kinds of manufactories, and is a prosperous town. Ottawa 
University is located hei'e, and for several years was 



OVER THE PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 81 

opened and conducted with encouraging prospects of suc- 
cess. But its endowment failed on account of some defect in 
a treaty with the Osage Indians, by which it was to receive 
a donation of lands. It is now closed. The site of the 
town is rather level, but the surrounding country is one of 
the richest in the State. I should have stated that mid- 
way between Lawrence and Ottawa is Baldwin, the site of 
Baker University', but of whose history and endowment I 
could learn nothing. 

Proceeding southward we passed several small streama 
swollen by the late rains, and skirted by belts of timber. 
Otherwise the countrv'- is rolling prairie until you reach 
the Pottawattamie river, flowing northeastwardly into the 
Marias des Cygnes. Here we again encountered heavy 
timber; that on the bluffs generally hardwood, and 
amongst that in the bottoms many large trees of black 
walnut. Five or six miles further brought us to Garnett, 
the county seat of Anderson county, on a considerable 
swell. The soil is pretty much the same as around 
Ottawa, but the country is more rolling, and on the side- 
hills and ravines I saw, in many places, ledges of mag- 
nesian limestone cropping out. This is characteristic of 
the country from this onward as far south as we went. 
I should judge that such portions as have only a few feet^ 
of soil overlieing this bed of magnesian limestone, are not 
well calculated to withstand droughts. Beyond Garnett, 
at a distance of some six miles, we crossed Cedar Creek, a 
tributary of the Pottawattamie, flowing about northeast.. 
On the bluffs I saw a few cedars, and again the black wal- 
nut in the bottom. Beyond this the horizon encloses 
often but one expanse of 2)rairie, which is, however, occa- 
sionally interrupted by a distant line of timber to the 
southeast, fringing Deer Creek. The countrj'- now slopes 
gently southwest to the Kansas Neosho river, and a belt 
of timber lining that stream^ occasionally looms up in the 
western horizon. As we approach Deer Creek, the belt of 
forest we had occasional glimpses of in the southeast. 



32 OVER THE PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 

crosses the path of the railroad, and ^ve soon crossed the 
creek, a rocky turbulent stream, swollen and overflowing 
its bottom by a heavy rain in the morning, which fell from 
the cloud we saw as we left Lawrence. Deer Creek runs 
west and falls into the Neosho rivei", a short distance west. 
We were soon at lola, the county seat of Allen county. 
'The road now heads down the valley of the Neosho, the 
meandering of which stream brings it sometimes in sight. 
The prairie hence from Garnett was often yellow Avith the 
Coreopsis Drummondii, and occasionally a stra}' i:)lant of the 
beautiful Coreopsis Tindoria. A run of some ten miles 
further brought us to Humboldt, where an excellent din- 
ner, especially prepared for us, was ready. It was soon 
'despatched, and then came the inevitable jiostprandium 
speeches, which I escaped by taking to the prairies. I 
Avent to the southwest of the town, which stands uj>on a 
-considerable swell. To the west, about a mile off, flowed 
the Neosho, having a general course nearly southeast. Its 
-banks are heavily lined with timber, and its course can be 
^traced by it for many miles from the northwest to the 
i-southeast. All the country east of it as far as could be 
seen, was a ti'celess expanse of prairie, but diversified by 
many newly opened farms, or by an immigrant's new 
cabin. The flora on the prairie I found the same as those 
already named, excepting a single plant of the Callirrhoe 
Verticellata, which wo found abundant on the plains 
farther west the following day, expanding its jnirijlc-red 
blooms, often two inches in diameter. As the dejDot is 
east of the town, I made a detour around the latter to the 
south. The prairie was full of lupines, larkspurs, pen- 
stemous, Godetias and flowers alread}- mentioned, but with 
the exception of the Collirrhos I found nothing except a 
species of Sedum that was new to me. It was j^ast bloom- 
ing, and as I lost the specimen I in\t up for my herbarium, 
I have been unable to determine its species. 

Returning to the depot I found quite a number of the 
vfiorapany there already, waiting the arrival of those 



OVER THE PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 3o 

detained by the orators. When they finally arrived, it 
was announced that the day was too far spent to go to 
Thayer, twenty -two miles farther south, the then terminus 
of the road. This I regretted, not that I probably lost 
seeing any thing new, but I failed seeing a historical char- 
acter, the veritable Eli Thayer, who, as a member of Con- 
gress from Massachusetts, in times anterior to the Kebel- 
lion, used to read with such gusto, the " Book of Martyrs, " 
as ho called the census of 1850, to the " fire-eaters." He 
also was the organizing spirit of the emigrant associations 
form.ed in the Northern States to settle Kansas in the 
days of "Border Ruffianism." A retrospect of the coun- 
try passed over during the day, has satisfied me that a 
sight otitis sufficient to convince any reasonable mind, 
that it is one of the most beautiful and the richest agricul- 
tural disiricts in the world. The only drawback that I. 
could discover, and which I have already mentioned, is the 
fact that the whole countrj' is underlaid at no great deptli 
with a bed of magnesian limestone, which often crops out 
on the banks of ravines, or the sides of gentle slopes. In 
case of droughts, which, however, have not occurred for 
several years, and it is contended that the climate has 
undergone an amelioration in this respect, land so situa- 
ted cannot withstand them well. To this may be added 
the scarcity of fuel. For, although the bottoms along the 
streams are generally well timbered, j-et there are long 
reaches of prairie, twenty and even thirty miles across, 
entirely destitute of trees. Dense settlement of the coun- 
try cannot take place until a substitute for wood as fuel 
will be found; and this substitute must be found in an 
abundant and cheap supply of coal. 

From indications it is fair to infer that it will not be 
long before an ample supply of excellent coal will be found 
throughout all this part of Kansas. At Carbondale, a min- 
ing town some 25 miles northwest of Ottowa, on the To- 
peka and Santa Fe railroad, there are immense fields of 
excellent coal. Again, at Osage City on the same railroad, 
3 



34 OVER THK PLAINS AND ON TIIK MOUNTAINS. 

about 30 miles duo west from Ottowu, a bod of coal is 
worked, which is said to equal in qualitj^ the two best in the 
Mississippi Valley. Coal of a good quality is also mined 
at Ottowa and at Thayer, in Neosho county. At lola 
there is boring going on with a view of striking the vein 
which is supposed to underlie the whole country. 

In all its aspects the country passed over to-day indicates 
recent settlement. Neither farms, residences nor barns, 
have as yet assumed that solidity and permanence which 
mark those in the northern part of the State. There the 
original cabin and cottage have given jilaco to the neat 
substantial and commodious farmhouse. But here evident- 
ly time enough has not yet elapsed to effect such great 
and permanent changes, i called the attention of some 
Ijawrence friends accompanying us, to this difference, and 
asked for an explanation, since there evidently was no 
difference in the productive capacity of the soil. I then 
learned that the whole country south of Ottowa had been 
an Indian Jleservation, and that only some six years have 
elapsed since the extinguishment of the Indian title. I 
also learned there was no government land to bo entered 
in southeastern Kansas, excepting in tho extreme south- 
ern tier of counties on tho Indian Territory. 

This railroad however has lands located in Anderson, 
Allen, Neosho and Labette counties, which they are offer- 
ing for sale at from four to ten dollars i)er acre on a cred- 
it of sev(Mi years at 7 per cent interest. Luuds contiguous 
to the road held by individuals, can be bought IVom eight to 
fifty dollars per acre, according to locality, or tho amount 
and charaeter of tho improvements thereon. As in the 
northern part of tho State so hero tho church and the 
schoolhouso are conspicuous objects in all the towns, vil- 
lao-es and settlements, a sure index of the character of tho 
people and of its dominant ideas. As already intimated 
the surface of the country is less diversified by hill and 
dale than that in northern Kansas. Tho swells are so gen- 
tle, and the elevation so moderate, that they cannot as- 



OVER THE PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 35 

pire to the dignity of being called hills; while in northern 
Kansas the elevations are considerable, and the slopes gen- 
erally abrupt. The conformation of the surface therefore 
gives wide alluvial bottoms to all the southern rivers, 
which are admirably adapted for corn, while the uplands 
are particulai'ly well adapted for sm;ill grain. The wheat- 
fields passed on the route to-day, were not only riper on 
the swells, but far less affected by rust on the blade than 
those on the bottoms. 

The return trip was not marked by any ihcident^ of note, 
except that wo encountei*ed a small thunder-shower south 
of Otto wa. On reaching Lawrence we found a largo num- 
ber of carriages waiting to give us a drive through and 
around the city. I took a seat in that belonging to 
Mayor Thatcher, driven by his son, a lad of some sixteen 
summers. Passing around the southern suburbs and west- 
ward until we reached the hill designated as Mount Oread, 
we were driven northward on the street that lines its side 
at some elevation above the plain below. This street is 
lined by tasty suburban residences, surrounded by shrub- 
bery, lawns, winding ways, ornamented with the choicest 
flowers. To the north Mount Oread terminates before it 
reaches the Kaw in a well and jirettily rounded hi!], Avith 
a tolerable steei? slope. We now drove westwardly until 
attaining the summit, and then southward till we reached 
the front of the State University where we were addressed 
by Mayor Thatcher in a very neat and pertinent speech. 
From this point the view is very fine. To the north and 
northeast is the Ivaw, a beautiful limpid river, whose 
course the eye caA follow for many miles down its valley. 
Between you and it lies the city of Lawrence, containing a 
population of some 12000, with its twenty churches, mag- 
nificent public schoolhouses, hotels, banks and other public 
and private buildings. There also is the bridge spanning 
the Kaw which connects the northern suburb where the 
depot of the Kansas Pacific railroad is. A few points 
south of east is Blue Mountain, a high knoll of but limited 



36 OVKR THK PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 

breuJtli, -which deflects the Wakarusa to the north into the 
Kaw some six miles below the city. To the south and 
southeast is a campaign country, covered with fine farms 
and orchards, as far as the eye can reach. Through the 
centre of this campaign runs the Wakanisa. Westward 
is a succession of rolling hills, and northwest is the wide 
alluvial bottom of the Kaw through Avhich its sei'pentine 
course can be traced for miles. 

Remounting our carriages we were driven through some 
of the principal streets of the city, and finally through 
Massachusetts street, its Broadway, to the Eldridge 
House. 

We have now been three days in Kansas, during which 
time wc have traveled about live hundred miles, and seen 
the country from north to south, and from east to west; to be 
sure in the brightest season of thcyeai*, the flowery month 
of June; and we have met and become acquainted with its 
people and enjoyed their hospitalities. Eetracing, men- 
tally, the incidents and scenes of these three days, they 
appear more like a lovely dream than a reality. A richer 
and a more beautiful country the sun does not look down 
upon in its course around the globe; and in time it must 
become the seat of wealth and social and intellectual power 
and influence, that will make themselves felt even beyond 
the limits of our own nation. But a few years since and it 
was the pasture field of the buffalo, and the hunting 
ground of wild, roaming, hunting savage tribes of the 
plains. Then came the white man, and with liim the 
fierce passions engendered in sectional strife, Avho made 
this their first battlefield. Xo crime that blackens the 
criminal code, but was enacted here, and that by people of 
the same lineage, speaking the same language, and hailing 
from the same nation. Fraud, violence, robber}^, arson 
and murder were rife here, and roamed over and deso- 
lated the land unchecked by the civil authority, because 
of the imbecility, or rather servility of both territorial and 
national tcovernments. But the men who came here to set- 



OVER THE PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 37 

lie, 8tot) i their j^round manfully, :ind maintained their 
ponition against unequal numbers backed, as ilir as they 
dared, by both civil authorities. Then to beeohie an emi- 
^ant to, and settle in Kansas, was an adventure that 
required courage, firmness and resolution. None but men 
of positive and strong convictions dared do it ; because it 
required taking their lives in their hands, with the resolu- 
tion to die for principles if it bcca:nc necessary-. It was 
a winnowing process by which the dross was separated 
in the States from the pure metal, and b}' w^hich cowards, 
neutrals, compromisers and temporizei's were completely 
eliminated. Those that then came, learned the important 
lesson which has been, and is, the secret of their success, 
prosperity and unexampled progress, mainly that of unity • 
of purpose and concentration of efforts. Whatever may 
have been, or is their object, whether to repel the aggres- 
sor, to organize industry, to establish schools and other 
institutions of learning, to build churches, and push for- 
ward enterprises of internal improvement, there has been 
no holding back, no division of council, no lukewarmness, 
but the united energy of the whole community has been, 
and is, always concentrated in the effort, acting as though 
it had but a single thought, and controlled by but one 
mind. In Austria or Russia, such unity of action would be 
effected by the use of despotic power, but here it is by in- 
telligence and enlightened public opinion. The result is 
that in no State has there been such rapid material pro- 
gress, and in so short a time such immense strides in all 
the elements of prosperity and greatness. In one decade 
they have done more towards the development of the 
natural resources of the State, to organize its industrial, 
social, moral, religious and intellectual interests, than is 
effected by the more apathetic and sluggish communities 
of the older States in a half centur}^. During the border 
troubles it was customary to speak of" Bleeding Kansas. " 
It is true she bled some, but with the light of to-day, we 
cannot but regard it to have been good for her health, and 



38 OVER THE PLAINS AXD ON THE MOUNTAINS. 

promotive ofliei conHtitutional vigor, it kept away from 
her the timid, the unenlightened, the thriftles.s and shift- 
less; in' fact all those without enterprise and determina- 
tion of purpose. Heneo, in her social movements, and in- 
dustrial enterprises, Kansas had nothing to clog the march 
of events, nor any dead weight to carry. Such material 
as that composing this infant State cannot be collected 
anywhere without developing its inheivnt tendency of 
pushing things that promote the inlei-esls and pros- 
perity of communities. Hence originated that spirit of 
progress, and the adoption of those far-seeing and wise 
measures that have ])laced her in the front ranlc of States 
in the organization of her material, social and intellectual 
interests. 

Our experience amongst them has convinced us that 
they are as kind, geuei'oiis and hospitable, as they are 
brave, daring and resolute. In everything they do there 
is the ring of the pure noble metal. Be it doing acts of 
generosity and kindness, of extending hospitality to strau- 
jrers, be it meeting the common eneniv in a death struoj- 
gle, or in attacking and overcoming the obstacles of 
Nature, the innate character of the people is never obscured 
or hidden. It is the embodiment of heart, will and pui-- 
pose. Such is a true picture of Kansas and her people to- 
day, which must forever leave its impression on her 
destinv. 



OVER THK PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 39 



CHAPTER lY. 

It was one hour past midnis^ht on the morning of June 
9th when wo loft, not without regret, the beautiful and 
enterprising city of Lawrence, the liospitalities of whose 
generous and liberal minded citizens avo had shared for 
the last two days. Once on board of the western bound 
train of the Kansas Pacific railroad, our faces as well as 
our thoughts* were turned to the great objective point ot 
our excursion, the Rocky Mountains. Day overtook us at 
Wamega, 104 miles west of the State line, the initial point 
of the raih'oad, whence distance is measured west to Den- 
ver. The character of the country, both extrinsic and 
intrinsic, appeared about the same as at Lawrence. There 
were l>old hills and gentle slopes, boundless jiruiries and 
hill encircled valleys, through the latter generally a lino 
of straggling trees mark the windings of a small brook. 
The soil is a dark mould, and where cultivated, gives 
promise of an abundant harvest. On all sides were evi- 
dences that the country is fast settling up with immi- 
grants. 

New and unpaintod cottages or the board shanty meet 
the eye in all directions, as far as sight can pierce over 
the plain. Some of these are yet surrounded with the 
primitive prairies, yet many stand within or beside the 
newly broken sod, but all are unenclosed. Often corn 
has been dropped in the furrow while breaking up the 
prairie, and where so, it is up with a tolerable fair stand 
five to eight inches above the sod. This often yields a 
third or a fourth of a crop, with no other labor than drop- 
ping it in the furrow while breaking up the prairie sod. 

The older settlements exhibit immistakable evidence of 



40 OVKR THE PLAINS AM> ON TUE MOUNTAINS. 

that intclligenco, industry and enterprise, and consequent- 
ly thrill ho characteristic of the people of Kansas. Xeat- 
er homes, bettor cultivated farms, and more promising and 
finer crojis, arc hard to find, even in the best cultivated 
and richest parts of the older States. The aspect of the 
whole seems as though tho people thought there wore no 
enjoyments nor pleasures equal to the endearments of tidy, 
comfortable and jileasant homes. 

The preceding day wo had seen the -wheat fields from 
Lawrence to Humboldt, along the Leavenworth, Lawrence 
and Galveston i-ailroad. At Garnett and lola there was 
often much disparity in the gr(nving crop. Fields almost 
adjacent, with apparently no diftbrcnce in soil, nor choice 
of location, differed so much in appearance that the own- 
ers of the poor fields must have made some great mistake 
or committed a grievous fault either in the time or man- 
ner in which they put tho croj) in, or in the quality of the 
seed sown. Be the cause what it may, one field promising 
28 to 30 bushels of wheat per acre was fully ripe for har- 
vest, untouched by blight, while an adjacent one, thin, 
green and rust eaten, would not yield one-half that quan- 
tity of a very inferior quality. Along the line of the Kan- 
sas Pacific railroad so far, although there were considera- 
ble differences in fields, there was nowhere such a contrast 
as we had observed in Southern Kansas. Corn from 
Wamega as far west as we found it planted, was very 
promising, of a dark rich green, since there had been 
through this section abundant rains, and most of the fields, 
were in the highest state of tilth with not a Aveod to be 
seen. 

Manhattan lies above and immediately west of the junc- 
tion of the Blue whose upper valley, some seventy miles 
north from its mouth, we had traversed three days before 
as far as Watorville. Here is located the Kansas State 
Af'ricultui'al College and the experimental farm. Accord- 
ing to pre-arrangement we wei-e to have stopped here and 
hpend a day in looking over the farm and studying its sys- 



OVER THE PLAINS AND ON TlfE MOUNTAINS. 41 

tern and that of the organization of the college. The col- 
lege and farm arc located some two and a half miles 
northwest of the town. But finding that if we did so, our 
train an-angements would be interfered with, Ave kept on 
without stopping, with the intention to defer our visit un- 
til our return. 

The railroad runs up the valley of the Kaw, or Kansas 
as it is sometimes called, a beautiful transparent stream 
with a rapid current. It is sometimes flanked by low 
hills, which now approach and then recede until lost from 
view beneath the distant liorizen. The banks of the riv- 
er are sparsely lined with trees, but Avith little under- 
growth. Otherwise there is no timber except along the 
banks of some affluent whose devious windings can be 
traced over the plains until lost in the distance, by the 
iine of trees that deck its banks. 

The same species of mimosa ol)served yesterday' in 
Southern and the day before in I^orthern Kansas, the 
Schrankia uncitiata otWio botanists, was still plenty, and 
occasionally the white and purple (Enothera, Avas still plen- 
ty. A ncAV comer, however, made its appearance this 
morning, the white Mexican prickly poppy, (Argemone 
grandlflora) groAving luxuriantly on the sides of the ex- 
cavations and embankments of the railroad. Its enor- 
mous Avhite floAvers, often fi\"e inches in diameter, Avere the 
admiration of the whole party. 

Some fifteen miles above Manhattan is to be seen on 
the south side of the KaAv the old capitol building now 
occupied if at all by hogs and other unclean beasts. PaAv- 
nee was to ha\^e been the capital of the nascent State ; hei-e 
the appropriation made by Congress for erecting Territori- 
al buildings Avas expended, and here GoA'ernor Eeeder con- 
vened the first Territorial Legislature, in midAvinter on a 
bleak prairie one hundred and tAventy-fivc miles Avest of 
any civilized habitation. This Avas too much for the j^i'ac- 
tical good sense of the unsophisticated early settlers, and 
they rebelled against it. After many failures Avith re- 



42 OVER Trra plains and on the moi.-ntains. 

newed and energetic efforts, the ambulatory Legislature 
meanwhile meeting at other points, the capitiil question 
was settled by selecting Topeka, and the glory of Pawnee 
departed and Avith it visions of valuable corner lots, etc. 
•On the surrounding prairies there is now nothing to be 
seen but droves of Texas cattle, remarkable only for their 
enormous uncouth horns. Such was the case on the 
morning we passed there. 

Fort Kiley is situated near the junction of the Eepubli- 
•can Fork; and some three miles beyond is Junction City. 
A good idea of the topographical sloping of Central and 
Northern Kansas may be formed by studying its river sys- 
tem proper, which converges here. Southwestern Kan- 
sas, nearly one-fourth part of the State, belongs to another 
system, and is drained and traversed by the Arkansas, and 
the Cimmaron. But the system which forms the Kawhas 
its sources west in Colorado and north in Nebraska. The 
Blue rises in Nebraska near the channel of the Platte, an'i 
flows generally south, entering the Kaw at Manhattan. 
It is said to afford the best water power in the State 
through its entire length. It certainly does so in the 
northern tier of counties, as we saw three days before at 
Irving, Blue Rapids and Waterville. The Republican 
forms a junction with the Smoky Hill Fork just below 
Junction ('ity. The Republican has its sourye in south- 
western Nebraska and northeastern Colorado, flowing at 
flrst cast, then southeast until it joins its waters with those 
of the Smoky Hill, forming the Kansas or Kaw. Thirty 
miles or so west, Solomon's Foi'k, rising in eastern Color- 
ado, running at first northeast into Nebraska and then 
southeast, joins the Smoky Hill. Thirteen miles highei- 
«p, the Smoky Hill is joined by the Salina, which also 
rises in eastern C/olorado. The Smoky Hill itself rises in 
eastern Colorado, and flows a little north of east in th*? 
general course. The line of railroad is up the valley of 
the Smoky Hill, but so level and expanded is its basin 
that the river Is s^'ldom in si<rht, flowinir far to the south. 



OVKR THE PLAINS AND ON THK MOUNTAINS. 43 

Some twenty-five miles above J unction is Abilene, 163 
miles west of the State line. Being the point fornhippino- 
Texas cattle, it is quite a business place, but the concen- 
tration of the ctittle trade here retards the growth, settle- 
"ment and improvement of the rich agricultural country 
surrounding it. 

At Abilene we saw the first subterranean habitation-s, 
which become more common further west. An excava- 
tion is made some ten feet wide, twenty feet long and six 
or seven feet deep. Timbers are -put up like rafters over 
the excavation, and the whole is covered with prairie 
sod. Such were the houses of the railroad laborers when 
the road was built, and such still are the habitations oi 
thousands of employees of the road, and of the poor on 
the plains from Abilene to Denver. An advance on this 
is the adobe, of which we saw several in the extreme 
"western part of Kansas. 

The first village beyond Abilene is Solomon, at the 
Junction of that stream, and next is Salina, named so for 
the same reason. Salina is a thriving village, and the 
best wheat fields seen yet were in the neighborhood. 
It is a " meal station, " consequently we took breakfast 
here — a very good one — for which the usual price along 
the line, one dollar, was charged. 

Beyond Salina the appearance of the country changes. 
The hills, on the north side especially, become higher and 
steeper, with occasionally a rock caj). Some twenty 
miles above Salina, on the highest hill, there is either a 
natui-al or artificial stone (-olumn, about fifteen feet high, 
and perhaps three feet in diameter. Some people say 
Fremont set it up as a landmark to guide the wanderers 
■of the prairies J others, that it is an Indian monument. 
It is a conspicuous object for miles around, J^avaria is 
the next Village above Salina. A good deal of newly 
"broken prairie, and of new cabins were seen here. Th^' 
town seems to be principally settled by Germans. Brook- 
■jsr'ille, at the two hiindredth mile post, is the next town, 



44 OVER THE PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 

and has a very thrifty appearance. The machine 8hop» 
of the Kansas Pacific railroad arc located here. Between 
Kock Spring and Elm Creek, ( 207 miles west of the States 
line) "vve saw the first prairie dog village. It is, however,, 
a libel to call this little fellow, the CynomyH Ludovicianus,. 
a dog. There is nothing in his looks, manners, habits,, 
disposition or nature that is at all currish. Why, to con- 
vince you of his iiprigfdness lie straightens himself and 
standing on his hind legs looks you in the tace without, 
winking; as much as to sa}' "you may call me a dog, but 
vou cannot accuse me of crookedness in my ways, for 
measure my acts by what rule you may, jihysically or 
morally, they will be found perpendicular t<^ any base 
you lay down." 

His defamers even admit that he lives in amity and 
y)eace with the jackass-rabbit, the l»urrowing prairie owl, 
and even Avith the malicious rattlesnake, sharing with 
them his house and bed. This ought to be sulficicnt evi- 
dence that he is not a dog, not even of '' the dog-in-the- 
manger" sort. Moreover, in a life-time he never tastes^ 
meat, but being a true herbivore, he lives upon the lus- 
'■ious blades and roots of the buffalo grass. lie indeed 
resembles a fox squirrel, being onh' a little larger and 
somewhat yellower, Vv-itli a short, black, straggy-haircd 
tail, like the groundhog or woodchuck. 

From Rock Creek to Fort Ilarker, especially near Sum- 
rait Siding, the bluifs and buttes arc bold and picturesque, 
with ledges and crests of red rock. The soil is very dark 
and the subsoil a brown, ashy gray. At Fort Ilarker the 
hills again assume their wonted shape of gentle slopes,, 
clothed in the light green of the prairies. Just beyond 
Fort Ilarker, we saw a caravan of about thirty ox-teams, 
on their way to Santa Fe. 

Fort Ilarker has an altitude of 1,586 feet above tide- 
water. Here there is a summit, and at Ellsworth, five 
miles beyond, the altitude is only 1,440 feet. But from 
here to Gopher, 174 miles west, the average rise per mile 



OVER THE PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 45 

;J8 a fraction over ten feet; the altitude of the latter place 
cbcing 8,220 feet above tide. 

Ellsworth, the limit of western settlement, is a new, 
neat and thrifty village, standing on the north bank of 
the Smoky Ilill, which here approaches close to the road. 
The country is rolling, rich prairie, but entirely treeless,. 
except some straggling trees along the river and crcel^,^ 
banks. ' Here the diminutive c*hurch, with a hifh, curi-^ 
ous-shaped steeple, arrests attention. It looks more like 
a toy house than anything else. We concluded it to be 
the famous ''little church around the corner," dispensing 
religious rites, privileges, consolation and charities on all 
alike as poor sinners, whether they claim, like the Phar- 
isees, conventional respectability and righteousness or 
not. Seventeen miles beyond Ellsworth is Wilson's 
Creek, 1,586 feet above tide water. Here Mr. Elliot, the 
Industrial Agent of the Kansas Pacific Eailroad Com- 
pany, has located his first experimental station. 

The existence of this agency is an historical sequence 
of events that took place more than half a century- ao-o. 
When Missouri applied for admission into the Union, the 
same questions in principle, though not in form, were 
raised which forty years later culminated in a war that 
terminated forever the existence of the institution in 
whose interest these questions Avere raised, by submitting 
them to the arbitrament of the sword. It was evident 
from the heat and ardor with which conflicting, extreme, 
and at every point antagonistic views on the conditions 
upon which Missouri was to be admitted, were presented 
and nrged, that an amicable compromise or an oj^en rup- 
ture must ensue. Timidity counseled comjDromisej but 
compromise upon anything actual was out of the question ; 
thei-efore it was made upon what was only prospective. 
The uninhabited territoiy hence became the matter of 
compromise; and to reconcile the extreme Southern men 
to a compromise, presented, urged and carried through 
b^' temporizing and timid men of their own section, an at- 



46 OVER THE PI>.A.INS AND OX THE MOUNTAINS. 

tempt Avas made to depreciate the territory in question^ 
Hence, while all territory lying north of latitude 36 dcg. 
80 min. and west of Missouri was dedicated forever to 
freedom, the Southern people must bo deluded with the 
idea that it was worthless. Hence there eminatcd 
from the War Department, then presided over by 3Ir. 
Calhoun, an aspirant for the Presidency, documents j^ur- 
porting to give a topographical description of the coun- 
try, and of the nature of the soil and climate. These 
documents described the country as worthless ; merely a 
vast, arid, treeless, rainless sandy desert ; no S2)rings nor 
running brooks, because there wasnorain to supply them; 
and so sandy that the streams that flowed from the moun- 
tains were soon absorbed on the plains. 

Hence there appeared in our school atlases, for the first 
time, that myth the " Great American Desert, " shaded 
like the Sahara and other deserts to indicate sand, from 
the Missouri to the mountains and south beyond the 
Arkansas. The settlement of Kansas, up to Ellsworth, 
two hundred and twenty-fivo miles west of Missouri, has 
dispelled this illusion as far as the eastern half of the ter- 
ritory is concerned ; but our geographers still represent 
the western half as the Great Desert, or the Desert omit- 
ting the sandy shading. 

The Kansas Pacific railroad company having a large 
land grant, (the alternate, or more specificall}^ all the odd 
numbered sections for ten miles on each side of the road,) 
from Congress given to aid in constructing the road, find it 
necessary to disabuse the public mind and root out the geo- 
graphical errors that have been inculcated for two genera- 
tions. They have adopted the truly logical way, Avhich is 
to combat error by facts. Without facts and without inves- 
tigation, and merely upon the dictum of some book com- 
piler, the public yet take it for granted that practically, if not 
actually, there is a region some three or four hundred miles 
wide in Western Kansas and Eastern Colorado that is 
doomed to remain a desert and wilderness forever; and 



OVER THE PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 47 

that the cause of this doom is natural sterility, imposed by- 
a sandy soil and a rainless climate. To eradicate the be- 
lief in this sterility, the contrary must be shown, and not 
shown by arguments, but by facts which are incontcstible. 
If crops actually grown there show that the soil is produc- 
tive, then it cannot be a sandy, sterile plain ; and if these 
crops are grown without irrigation, then the climate can- 
not be rainless. These are the problems proposed by the: 
company to be solved and demonstrated by its industrial 
agent. Mr. Elliot selected three stations — Wilson's ('reek, 
Ellis and Pond ('reek — for his experiments. The distances 
from the State line, respectively, arc 239, 302 and 425- 
miles, and their elevations 1586, 2019, 3200 feet above the 
sea. East of Wilson's Creek the demonstration of the in- 
habitability and fertility of the plains is une fait accompli. 
Up as far as and ai'ound Ellsworth, onl}- sixteen milea 
cast of Wilson's, the luxuriant fields of corn and the heavy 
fields of wheat, yellow and ready for the harvest, without 
any taint of disease, sufficiently attest the adaptation of 
tJic country for yielding the heaviest crops of cereals and 
of the best quality. But Wilson's is on a high bench, with 
a different soil, and with less black loam than the plains, 
eastward. In fact, it is a different, a cretaceous forma- 
tion, reaching clear to the mountains. Here, then, the 
test was to be made whether this formation was deficient 
in the elements of fertility, and if not, then under proper 
conditions the whole plain would be productive. Late in 
November wheat, rye and barley Avere sown, and the sea- 
son being unusually dry, the prospect of success was not 
considered to be very fiattering. The area sown was 
about one acre and a half of each kind. When we were 
there (on the 9th of June) the whole crop w'ould be ripe 
within ten days. The stand, the hight, and the general 
appearance of the crop w^ere equal to the best crops under 
similar circumstances in Missouri or Illinois, and in the 
rich yellow coloring of the straw and freedom from disease, 
iar superior. Of the crop at Ellis we could not judge^ 



48 OVKH TIIK PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 

since .some iiiiic days before our arrival a hailstorm had 
passed over, literally mowing it down and sweeping it 
from the field. At Pond Creek more than a thousand feet 
highei-, the crop was very promising — not so forward, but 
of the healthiest kind of deep green. On our return, ten 
days later, the barley was here turning yellow and the 
cars very heavy. As far as the experiments of the present 
and past season are concerned, they have been eminently- 
successful. The winter gi-ains have not onl}' succeeded, 
but succeeded most admirably, and the corn is promising. 
The onh' question, then, is, was the present an ordinary 
■or an exceptional season ? This it is impossible for me to 
decide; and further experiment and observation maybe 
necessary to determine and settle this jioint. 

It will be remembered that in Missouri the spring had 
been unusually dry. When we left St. Louis in early 
June, the spring crops were suffering for want of rain, and 
we found them still so when we returned on the twentieth, 
thougli there had been a few refreshing showers in the 
intervening time. West on the northern frontier of Kan- 
;sas, as far as we went, some 100 miles northwest of Atchi- 
son, there had been abundant rains. The same remark 
may be made as disclosed by our trip to near the southern 
border. On the outward trip, west as far as daylight per- 
mitted lis to observe, namely, to Fort Wallace, 420 miles 
Avest of the State line, and on our return from Aroya, 511 
miles, there were evidences of not only abundant but 
quite recent rains; the excavations along the line and the 
buffalo wallows on the prairie were pools of water. At 
Denver, 128 miles further west, there had been no rain 
when we left. Xow, these rains reaching away into east- 
ern Colorado, an<l within 150 miles of the mountains, may 
have been exceptional and not the rule ; but if they are as 
abundant and frequent eveiy season as this, the crops will 
.suffer less from drought on the plains than they have in 
southern and eastern Missouri this j'car. 

Mr. Elliot also experimented in planting trees, both de- 



OVER THE PLAIN3 AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 49 

ciduoiis and evergreen. Of the former wo saw maples, 
elms, ailanthus, chesnut, European larch, etc., which all 
appeared to do well. The larch had started tinel}- and 
promised well, but my experience with it is that appear- 
ances are deceptive, and disappointment almost certain, 
being so liable to kill off during the summer heats. 1 think 
it will be found to do well on the higher, well irrijxated 
and cooler plains of Colorado ; but on the plains it should 
be planted sparingly until experiment has demonstrated 
that it can be done successfully. 

The seedling oaks and walnuts looked thrifty, and of 
their success there can be no doubt. Of evergreens there 
were planted the Scotch and the Austrian pine and the 
Norway spruce. The latter so far appeared the most 
promising. It must also be stated that the jjlanting was 
not done \inder the most favorable circumstances. It was 
done by the employees of the road, none of whom, pei'haps, 
had ever sot or seen a ti'oo sot before in their lives. The 
success in tree raising is of the highest imj)ortance, since 
incontestible facts prove that of all agencies within the 
control of man for the amelioration of climate, that of cov- 
ering the earth with forests is the most effective. Of the 
progressive improvement in climate on the pilains and the 
mountains, and the probable cause, we may speak hereaf- 
ter. The supply of water is also a material question bear- 
ing upon the future settlement of the jjlains. There are 
more or less springs, but often at long intervals, through- 
out the plains ; and then besides the living streams, such 
as the Solomon, Salina, Smoky Hill, Republican and their 
affluents, there are many " aroijas,'' that I's beds of tempora- 
ry' streams with ])ools of water, which answer for stock 
purposes. 

Suppose that the fall from the clouds is insufficient to fill 
the cisterns, the experience of the railroad comjDany is 
that abundant and apparently inexhaustible supplies of 
water can be obtained in sinking wells of moderate dej^ths. 
In sinking these wells no blasting is necessarv. What the 
4 



50 OVER THE PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 

approximate depth may be to which the wells have to be 
sunk will depend ujjon the elevation of the surface. The 
railroad company sank these wells where necessary, most 
generally on an elevation, since their road is on a divide. 
Their wells range from 48 to 130 feet in depth. Upon 
lower grounds the depth would probably be much less. 

Fossil is a station village, in and around which some 
thii'ty families from Wisconsin are settled. They were 
very poor when they came here, soon after the road was 
opened. An employee of the road told me the company 
had brought them here at a mere nominal charge from 
St. Louis and set them down here, knowing they never 
could get awa}'. They have comfortable cottages now, 
are breaking up considerable prairie, and have some cat- 
tle. I conversed with several of them, both male and fe- 
male. They appeared quite intelligent and declared, not- 
withstanding the privations, hardships and trials they had 
to endure after coming here, they are now well pleased 
and quite satisfied with their situation. Some of the vil- 
lage boys had a horned frog they had caught, which they 
presented to Mr. Geo. T. Anthony, the editor of the Kan- 
sas Farmer. Here we saw the first buftalo, but it was a 
calf, tied with a long rope, and was quite tame. We could 
no longer doubt that we were within the range of the 
buffalo, not because Ave had seen the calf, but all along the 
i*ailroad and over the plains, their dead carcases were 
strewn. This continued for 200 miles and how nuudi fur- 
ther I cannot say, since, as long as there was sulHcient day- 
light the same evidences ofAvanton slaughter and insensate 
destruction were visible. This is a fit subject for the atten- 
tion of the Humane Societj-. I suppose I saw at least a 
thousand carcases lying as they fell, killed merely to afford 
:imusemeutto the soldiers of Forts Hays, Wallace, etc. This 
is outi-ageous, andthe strong arm of the government should 
be exerted to put a stop to it. These animals are and will be 
an important item to promote the settlement of the plains, 
furnishing an abundant and most delicious supply of meat to 



OVER THE PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 51 

the pioneers. It is now served xxp at all the meal stations 
of the road, and is more relished by the hungry passengers 
than the best beef. Besides, our Indian difficulties always 
involve the wholesale slaughter and wanton destruction 
of the buffalo by the whites. Let the government rec- 
tify and prevent these outrages in the future, and let these 
thoughtless men be made to feel that humanity and civ- 
ilization revolt against such wantonness and cruelty. 

At Fossil there is a most beautiful white limestone in 
great abundance, admirably adapted for building purposes. 
Immense quantities of it are quarried and shipped from 
here and other stations along the road. Further west, 
near "Wallace, there are softer limestones, some of 
beautifully variegated colore, so soft as to be as easily 
sawed as wood into blocks; yet when dried will bear the 
weight of large buildings. Xear Junction City a similar 
soft magnesian limestone, called '' Junction City marble, " 
is found. Blocks from eight to twelve tons weight are 
quarried and sawed, like wood, into any shape desired. 
It is of a delicate cream color. Most of the houses in 
Junction City are built of it; and so is the magnificent 
State capitol, at Topeka. Its durability has been well 
tested for years at the government buildings at Fort 
Riley. 

We are now fully on the plains. The short buffalo 
grass has supplanted the taller grasses, common to the prai- 
ries in all the Western States. This is a peculiar grass, not 
as long as, but standing fully as thick as the hair on a 
buffalo's back. Whether green or dried into a natural 
hay, it is equally well relished by wild and tame animals, 
and possesses most remarkable nutricious properties. It 
noAV would have complete possession of the plains where 
we are, were it not for the Patagonian plantain {Flantago 
Patagonica), vfhich. overtops it and gives to the plain a 
bluish-gray tint. This plantain is common to both North 
and South America, growing east of the Andes and Rocky 
Mountains, from the Straits of Magellan to the Arctic 



52 OVKH THE PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 

Sea. The flora have also become fewer and scarcer. 
There are none to be seen, except the white Mexican 
poppy along the excavations of the road, and on the prai- 
ries occasionally a Jlalvastnim Coccineum, also the beauti- 
ful Gaillardia Picta and lai-ge jDlots of the CalUrrhoe Pedata 
and CalUrrhoe VeiiicUlata. 

On and on we go to the westward, passing a road sta- 
tion ever}' twelve or fifteen miles, Walker, Hays, Ellis, 
Ogallah, Park's Fort, Cayote, Butfalo, Grinnel, Monument, 
Gfojiher, Sheridan, Wallace, Eagle Tail, Monotony-, etc. 
Otherwise the scene is as monotonous as that viewed from 
a shij) on the ocean. Varied, however, with the constantly 
occurring prairie dog villages. It was really amusing to 
see the dogs (?) scampering home, big and little, upon the 
approach of the train. Instantly they would disappear in 
their holes, excepting perhaps a veteran whoso curiosity 
was greater than his sense of fear. Having ain*ived on 
his hillock, he sets himself upright, often raising on his 
hind legs, and stands unmoved like a statue, looking at 
the passing train. Some of the passengers in a forward 
car would empty their revolvers at them, but without 
etfect, unless the ball struck near the hillock, when in a 
twinkle he would disappear in his hole. 

On the hillocks wei'e frequently seen the burrowing 
owl, the Anthene HypucjKa of ornitholigists. 

We saw the first antelopes near Ogallah. As soon as 
they were discovered the shout of " Antelopes " burst from 
every car in the train,' and all ej-es were strained in a 
southwest direction to catch a glimpse of the novel sight. 
There, sure enough, at perhaps three hundred yard^ dis- 
tant, were two fine ones, fleeting with the swiftness of the 
wind over the plain. As thej' seemed bewildered, and 
taking a direction almost parallel to the line of the road, 
they were some time in sight. Hardly had this excite- 
ment subsided before the shout of "Buffalo" broke out, 
with fingers pointing to the north. Away off at a great 



OVER THE PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 53 

distance were three dark moving objects, which Ave were 
told were stragglers from the main herd. 

A jackass-rabbit, the Lepus Toicnsendii, would now and 
then start up and scud away. He is as large as a four- 
month old fawn, with the color and immense ears of a 
jackass. Sometimes a very large old fellow, accustomed 
to the cars, would sit on a prairie dog's hillock surrounded 
b}^ the dogs, and look unconcernedly at the passing train 
within tifty yards of it. The antelopes became so numer- 
ous as not to attract much attention, and twice or three 
times more we had views of a few buffaloes at a distance. 
:Near dark there was a shout of "coyote," and a prairie 
Avolf, as he is called in tlie AVcstcrn States (eanis latrans) 
was seen trying his " level best" to get out of the way of 
the " fire horse. " 

Towards evening the aspect of the plain changed. The 
"m'esquite," a kind of vernal grass, was supplanting the 
Patagonian plantain. It is about four inches high, heads 
up like beardless barley, which are filled with a grain like 
chess, and as it was past maturity, it was dry and dead, 
giving the plain, notwithstanding its wooly coat of bluish 
gray, green buffalo grass, a sere appearance. At Wallace 
we had fine buffalo steak for supper, and it was after sun- 
set that we resumed our journey. 

Conversing with Major Eeddington, the paymaster on 
this end of the i-oad, about the meteorology and climate of 
this section of the Great Plains, I received much valuable 
information respecting the periodic winds that sweep at 
re^mlar seasons over this vast region. I may hereafter 
embodv these facts, combining them with my own obser- 
vations, into regular form, and explain their laws and me- 
teorolo"-ical relations to the climate of the Yalley of the 
Mississippi. 

Inquiring of the Major how long this wearisome monot- 
ony of plain and sky would continue, I received the wel- 
come information that fifty miles west from where we 



54 OVKR THE PLAINS AND ON THK MOUNTAINS. 

then wore, at First Yiew Station, we would get the first 
glimpse at the mountains. 

It was now^^etting dark, and a thick grayish haze had 
settled on the plain; it was therefore evident that we 
could not eiijoy the "first view," even -if at the station. 
The loneliness of the landscape, the sombre appearance of 
the sky, shut out by the thick haze, seemed to grow o])- 
pressive imd to excite a vague, indefinite feeling of anxi- 
ety, akin to fear. I looked out, the pall of darkness had 
settled on the plain. In front was our engine, like a mon- 
ster, breathing smoke and flame, giving a lurid tint to the 
thick haze, but all else was impenetrable gjoom and dark- 
ness. I felt as though we had left the coasts of light, and 
Milton's desci-iption of the arch fiend's flight through the 
domains of Chaos vividly recurred to me : 

" On he fares, through a dark. 
Illimitable ccean, without bound, 
Without dimension ; a vast vacuity, where 
Length, breadth, hight, time and place are lost. " 

Our weary company became silent, and one by one fell 
into the embrace of 

•• Tired nature's sweet restorer. 
Balmy sleep. " 

And so I close for the present, leaving us asleep in the 
wide, wide plains. 



•OVKa THB PLAINS ANl> ON THE MOUNTAINS. 55 



CHAPTEE V. 

Our last chapter closed with the retirement of our 
party to rest, and left us asleep on the vast plains, in 
charge of the fiery steed, who, sure footed and fleet, and 
undaunted by storm and darkness, was, with unflagging 
speed, carrying us forward to our destination. Day over- 
took us at Agate, 572 miles beyond the State line of Mis- 
souri, and 57 miles east of Denver. Kefreshed by a good 
Test, i was up at dawn to catch a glimpse of the great 
mountains, with whose description by Lewis and Clark I 
waf^charmed and captivated in early boyhood.^ But the 
same impenetrable haze of the preceding evening still 
rested on the plains and closed in the view oji all sides. 
The moraing was cold, and frost was observable on tho 
plains, which looked more sere and desolate than before, 
since the dry ''mesquite grass" was more abundant, and 
entirely hid the coat of buffalo grass underneath. But wo 
were either running out of the haze, or else tho rising sun 
was dispersing it, for it was growing thinner and more 
penetrable to the sight. Ah, there ! the outline of some- 
thingcdark as a storm cloud appeared for an instant and 
then vanished. Was it fancy, or was it reality? Anon, 
and the same reappeared, this time like a series ot black 
.clouds, but hazy, and of no definite outline. Again they 
vanisli and leave me in doubt. I hesitated making tho 
ras&ertion that I had caught a glimpse of the object that I 
had a life-long desire to see. I looked doubtfully at Mrs. 
•T. who had been looking out for the same object on the 
opposite side of the cars. She beckoned me and whis- 
pered, '' I believe I caught several glimpses of the moun- 
tains through the fog. " I replied I thought I had too, 



Ob OVER THE PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 

hut wuH not quite certain. Looking out airain, in a mo- 
ment they reappeared, this time quite disiincl ; and in- 
Htantly a shout arose: "The mountains!" "liie moun- 
tains ! " that awoke every sleeper in the party. 

In fifteen minutes more we had run clean out of the 
haze into an atmosphere of most crystalline transparency. 
There lay exposed to full view along the western hox-izon 
two hundred and fifty miles, at least, of the greatest, long- 
est, and most remarkable mountain chain in the world, 
stretching from Terra del Fuego to Behring's Straits, u 
distance of some 11,000 miles, and containing more of the 
precious metals than the whole world besides. There 
they lay, sombre as cast iron, peak behind jicak, duplicate 
and conduplicate, culminating in tlie far distance into 
snowy heads, peering over and dominating the whole. 
My observations on the plains had already satisfied me that 
in no ])articular whatever, either of general outline, for- 
snation, soil, climate, productions or meteorology, was the 
West a counterpart of the East ; and that from an eastern 
standpoint, neither the appearance, character nor condi- 
tions of the West could be conceived or understood. From 
even this distant point, no one can look at the mountain 
system, spread out like a panorama before him, without 
having the conviction forced upon him, that though Xature 
operates everywhere by the same law, yet she never 
follows ov ])assively copies the same pattern. In the east- 
ern mountains the chains are parallel and separated by 
wide valleys. Moreover they are single and continuous, 
unbroken it may be, for fifty or a hundred miles. But 
here, even, the mountain wall that rises almost perpendic- 
ular to the height of two to four thousand feet, in a 
straight line along the edge of the plain, like the houses 
on one side of a street in our large cities, is severed from 
top to bottom, not unlike those houses, at intervals never 
exceeding two thousand feet. These immense rifts are 
the gulches and canyons through which the mountain 
streams, having their sources in the snow\- i-ange, fifty 



OVER THE PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 57 

miles distant, pour their limpid, iey-cold water on the- 
plains. These rifts do not strike in a single gorge directly 
into the heart of the mountiiins, but hy more or less 
laterals, honey-comb the whole sj-stem. Hence, the 
mountain, instead of a monotonous range, as in the East,., 
is a system of cones, oftentimes as sharp as the teeth of a. 
saw. Most appropriately have the Spaniards called them 
the "Sierras;" that is, the serrated, or the mountains jag- 
<red like a saw. The great departure I had observed in 
the far AVest, from what Eastern experience would lead us. 
to infer were the normal forms of Xaturc, had prepared 
me not to expect seeing the familiar forms of the East re- 
peated, but I was totally unprepared, even in imagination,, 
for the sublime, strange, and unique forms that greeted 
my sight that morning. East, and north and south lay 
ihe apparently illimitable plain, but to the west there: 
loomed up from below the horizon what appeared at one 
time to have been an ocean of molten iron lashed intO' 
mountain waves; then instantly congealed and fixed mo- 
tionless forever. The transparency and rarity of the 
air 5,700 feet above the sea, made it impossible to judge of 
their distance. They were fully eighty miles away, yet 
every one judging by ordinary experience, would not 
have assigned them a distance beyond five miles. Look- 
in'' at them in this light, it re(piircd very little aid from 
the imagination to fixncy that we Avere approaching a 
mio-htv city of cyclopean architecture, and that the moun- 
tain cones and peaks were domes and minarets, ])yramids, 
and pinnacles. Such reveries at least passed through my 
mind as I sat gazing at them from the car windows, which 
Avere uninterrupted till the announcement was made — 
''Denver." For once I was disappointed. It may have 
been from being so suddenly translated from the regions 
of fancy to those of iA:?ality; or it may have been that I 
expected in a region like this, where Xature operates on 
so grand a scale, and in so unique a style, that man would 
appreciate it, select his habitation at the choicest spot, and 



SS OV15R;THi::PIiATNS ASD ON THE" MOUNTAINS. 

Tnako his works correspond to the beauty of the sur- 
roundings. Bo'thd oausG what it may, yet the truth must 
be confessed, I never before visited- for- the first time any 
place that seemed so tame, hnm'dnira, commonplace and 
nnpoetical as I>enver did that morning. 

My subsequent observations diU not-imjirove or modify 
^my first impressions. I believe such i.s a universal feeling 
-experienced by travelers; and the firstthought that finds 
^expression is, the wonder why ever ti city was located in 
• such a i^oint as this. ^The truth is, the selection of the 
locality was not determined either from the beauty 
or loveliness of the spot, from it« primitive adapta- 
tion for a city, or from its prospective development 
for such, but by accident; ami like most accidents, it was 
'.and is unfortunate, both forth-e commercial interest of the 
■ Territoiy anld for public, convcnionce. 

The earliest gold hunters that went into the Territory 
Tound a few grains of gold in Ihe -sandy bed of Cherry 
"Creek, an insignificant stream that flows, when it has any 
water, from the Divide in a northwesterly direction into 
the South Platte. This induced them to pitch their tents 
here and calling the ])lace by the poetical name of 
Aumria. The news of the finding of gold here spread 
like wildfire over the States as well as over the mountains ; 
rand it became the objective point of gold-hunters from the 
■^States as avcU as from the mountains of New Mexico. 
"This fact made it a good point to concentrate and distrib- 
ute supplies. Here the miner of the mountains could go 
-and replenish his stores of provisions, supply himself 
with tools and other necessaries ; and the adventurers from 
' the States, after their long wanderings over the plains. 
f^an>e;here to ovei^haiil and refit, aiid to complete their 
fOtttfitSfw their anountain expedition. Numerous stores 
wer-e- opened, with full and complete assortments of min- 
-inff iflipl<i«ients, pi-ovisions, groceries and other necessi- 
-tieg. 'Although tl»e limited quantity of gold dust found in 
'thesandiStafvCherry Creek were soon exhaustod, Auraria 



OVER THE PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 59 

'still flourished and had become a respe(^tai)le -silla^^e. It 
still yielded gold to desperate adventurers who had large 
stocks of'supi)lies to dispose of, and recklessly engaged in 
keeping up the delusion abroad of the fabulous richness 
of the mountain placers. But the bubble finally burst, 
and the poetical Auraria, (the golden land) shorn of its 
glory, became Denver, in honor of Col. .J. W. Denver, the 
then Governor of Kansas, in which all this mountain re- 
gion was then included. It is now a city lighted with gas, 
has a branch mint, sevei-al banks, and some heavy com- 
mercial houses. Its population is about 8,000. Johnny 
lias invaded it some. On its business streets are con- 
spicuously displayed the signs of How Chong, Ming Lee, 
•-etc.^ tinnouncing that washing and ironing arc done there. 
Besides there is what is called the Chinese quarter, near 
the bi'idgc, entirely occupied by them. Like ancient Pal- 
myra, the Thadmorofthe Wilderness in Israelitish his- 
tory, Denver is a mere entrepot of commerce, where arti- 
cles i^roduced in far separated regions, are taken to be ex- 
changed and distributed, but where no article of commer- 
cial value is, or ever can be, produced. 

Palmyra, however, was situated in a fertile oasis sur- 
rounded by shady palm trees, beyond which stretched an 
inhospitable sandy desert; but Denver is situated on an 
ai'id plain, with neither palm nor even the indigenous 
Cottonwood to afford shade to the weary ox-teams that by 
scores are daily arriving with wool from Xew Mexico. 

The articles of commercial value now furnished, and 
'■ever to be fui-nished, by Colorado, are the precious metals 
found in its mountains. The center of its mineral dis- 
trict, as far as now developed, lies considerably to the 
north of west from Denver. New discoveries, said to be 
very rich, are rapidly making in the northwestern part of 
the territory, while.no extension of discoveries or in min- 
ing operations are being made in the southwest. Gulch 
mining is not prosecuted much in the Territorv now, tor 
it is not now and never was profitable here, excepting 



y 



60 OYER THE PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 

Avithia very narrow limits. In the lodes, gold is mostly 
combined with pyrites of iron, a sulphuret; silver ores are 
also mostly sulphurets combined with baser metals, as cop- 
per, lead and zinCi There can be no combinations more 
refractory than those of the precious metals in this re- 
gion; and no patent Avay of extracting them has succeeded 
in obtaining more than from- one-quarter to one-third con- 
tained in the ore Gradually all treatment of them has 
and is returning to the old way of smelting. Kegular 
smelting furna^ces are now in operation in all parts of the- 
mountains wkcre the oldest lodes are located, and others; 
are being erecteil at points convenient to the newly de- 
veloped mines;. But the talk now is of constructing nar- 
row gauge railroadB ihto.tho mountains at various points. 
As this is said to be^ entirely practicable, the construction 
of these roads is a mere question of time. Then, if coal of 
a suitable quality for.- smelting these ores exists at any 
point along the foot of the mountains, these ores will be 
brought there to be reduced. Geological explorations 
have established the fiict that coal beds skirt the moun- 
tains through the entire width of the Territory. It is a 
rich lignite, diifering muck however in quality at dififer- 
ent points. In some localities it is said to be of the best 
quality, being a pure anthracite. 

It is not known whether any coal exists at Denver j but 
probably it does at consideraljle depth. The location of 
the commercial metropolis of this; region is, therefore, still 
an open question, to be determined, by future develop- 
ments, with the chances decidedly again.st Denver, situa- 
ted as it is on an arid plain, some eighteen miles from the 
foot of the mountains. 

It is situated on the east bank of the South Platte, a 
bank-full and therefore canal-like stream which< heads in 
South Park, and when it issues from the mountains, like 
all streams in this region, strikes out on the plain, and 
then gradually tends towards the northeast. 

After spending the greater part of Saturday in looking- 



OVER THE PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTATn^ 61 

iover the city, visiting the United States Mint, scrutinizing 
its assaying rooms, examining all its appointments, and 
looking through the mincralogical cabinet, and then tak- 
ing a walk down to the bridge, and from it admiring the 
limpid Avaters and beauty of the South Platte, rushing 
with a tearful rapidity past the western portion of the 
city, we concluded that wehad al)Out-"donc up" Denver, 
and that it would be a decidedly dull place to spend Sun- 
day in. Besides, a view of the sno"wy range looked so 
«ool, refreshing and inviting, that we could not resist the 
temptation of going there. Accordingly our party took 
the evening train of the Colorado Central Eailroad, for 
Golden City, sixteen miles distant, and near the foot of 
the mountains, where we arrived at half-jjast six 
o'clock. 

The raih-oad runs up t^ the mountains on the north 
side of Clear Creek, which, like all the streams here', is 
brimfull and rapid, running through the plain like a canal. 
Before reaching Golden, the railroad runs close under a 
range of basaltic buttes, jutting out on the plain at right 
angles to the mountains. They are crested with an im- 
mense wall of basalt, rising perpendicularlj' from one hun- 
dred to two hundred feet. This range is shown in the 
background of the engraving ot Castle Butte, in which the 
aj^pcarance of the rock crest is well represented. Their 
altitude is from six hundred to one thousand feet above 
the railroad. They are very bald, extremely steep, rocky 
and destitute of vegetation, except in places sparsely cov- 
ered with the short buffalo grass and a few flowers. 

Golden ('ity is cut in twain by Clear Creek, a large, 
>dashing, ic}^ cold stream, that comes booming from the 
mountains; the hum of whose noisy waters, of an evening, 
is a j)erpetual lullabj' to the denizens of this unpreten- 
tious cozy town, nestled so snugly on its bosom. It is 
more than a mile to the mouth of the canyon, where the 
stream issues from the mountains ; yet fi'om the rarity of 
the atmosphere (for Golden is 5,700 feetabove tide water ) 



62 OVER THE PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 

the ajjpai-ent distance seems not to be more than a quar- 
ter of a mile. All visitors will learn, if not otherwise, by- 
painful experience, that distance in this region cannot be- 
measured, or even approximately guessed at by sight. 
This peculiarity, however, is not, as is generally supposed^, 
due to the purity, but to the rarity of thcatmosjjhere. Be-- 
sides this, a change takes place in the form of the eye by. 
being relieved by the altitude of so. much atmospheric 
pressure. Several instances, illustrating tliis fact, occui*red; 
in our party. For years they could, neither read box* 
write without glasses, yet here they did both unaware of 
the fact until from habit, when they got through, they 
reached for their glasses. The deceptiveness in r.egard to 
distance led me and others into several awkward scrai)os». 
(jne of these occurred on the evening of our -arrival at 
Golden. To understaiul it, howevei',. a- toi:)OgraphieaL 
description of the surrounding country is necessary. 

West lies the rifted barrier of the liockj' Mountains^ 
flanking the plains in a straight line north. and south with, 
a nearly perpendicular wall, from tifteen. hundred to two • 
thousand feet high. The light green, of the plain con- 
trasts beautifully with sombre browji. of the feldspathio- 
rocks of the mountain sides, or the dark.green of the ever- 
greens with which the mountain slope,-^^ Avhere not too- 
steep, are covered. Ilowevei* on this plain, sporatic iso- 
lated mounts, or buttes, as they are here called, have been 
thrown up, mostly single cones,, that stand, on the plain. 
looking like haystacks. They are often iten .miles di.stant 
from the mountains, and twenty from each other, and at- 
tain altitudes from 500 to 1,500 feet. They invariably are ■■ 
crowned with massive columnar basalt, rising perpendicu- 
larly from the summit of the cone to a height of from IGO 
to 200 feet, while the slope of.thcbutte below the crown 
is regular but very ste<?p,. say from forty-five to sixty-five 
degrees. They also differ from the mountiiin sjiiu's and 
peaks in this; they are, without exception, bleak and bald, . 
having no vegetation except a. little buiTalo grass. A 



OVER THE PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 



6&: 



series of these buttes, as already stated, occur north of 
Clear Creek, and flank the railroad up to G-olden, where 
they terminate. Some of these, I Avould judge, have an 
altitude of 1,200 feet above the adjacent plain. South of 
Clear Creek and east of the main, part of Golden, at a dis- 
tance of about thi'ee-fourths of a mile, one of these buttes 
rises to some 800 feet. The basadt, crowning its top, ap- 
pears as though it had beon^ planeil off, and hence has 
been named Caslle Eutte. 




CASTLE BUTTE, AT GOLDEN. 



Pulpit Eock, or Castle Butte, is represented by the ac- 
companying engraving. The engraving is defective ia 
this, that it does not shoAV that the out crop of basalt 
crowning the ridge, l^ehind the butte, is separated fi-om it 
by Clear Creek, through which runs the railroad. The 



(64 OVER THE TLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 

view is taken from the l)t'nch to tho nouthwest, three- 
fourths ofji mile from the buttc; and only takes in a few- 
houses in the extreme southeast of the town. 

The hci^cht and isolated situation of the butte was so 
invitino; that the larger portion of our party were tempted 
to ascend it to see the sun set behind the eternal snows. 
As the distance seemed so short, and the sun was still an 
hour high, they thought the thing was quite feasible. 
Some of the citizens suggested that the time was rather 
short, and cautioned them that distances were very decep- 
tive here, but as they sawthem bent on the achievement, 
they pointed out the only practicable way to reach the 
summit. 

"Well, to experience a now sensation, a number, both of 
ladies and gentlemen, started oflF f )r Castle Butte, while, 
accompanied by several ladies and gontlemon, I ascended 
a bench, or terrace, some fifty or sixty feet high, lying 
southwest of the town, the top of which, like all the 
benches, was a level i>lain lying against the mountains 
and overlooking the town and j^laiii below, and Clear' 
Creek, from where it breaks from its canyon until lost on 
the distant i)lains. This bench was covered with most ex- 
quisite flowers. Here were Lupines of every hue between 
snowy white to tyrean purple; red Pe7istemous ; indigo- 
blue and crimson Oxytropies, (the reader must pardon the 
scientific names, as these plants, as yet, have no others ) 
yellow Mcntzelias ; white and purple Anemones; the 
gaudy Gaillardia aristata, two or three inches in diame- 
ter; the whit« ToionscncUa ; the purple Cleome integrifola ; 
the fragrant Abronia; the cream-colored, lily-shaped 
flower, large as a hollyhock, of the Yucca angustifolia ; 
and the fragrant Gaura coccinnea. Hear Ave whiled away 
the time plucking the flowers, picking up pebbles, and 
occasionally casting glances at our friends on the other 
side of the valley to see how they were succeeding in 
their laudable efforts at rising in the world. But the sxm 
.went down before the foremost of them reached the pre- 



OVER THE Pli-VINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 65 

cipitoiis luisjilt elift crowning the summit. This couhi 
only be surmounted by a detour to the northeast of nearly 
half a mile. Twilight had set in before any of them stood 
on the summit, and most of them had to give it up in 
despair, after havmg achieved two-thirds of the task. 

Eeturning to our liotel it was not long before strag- 
<>-lers of the unsuccessful aseensionists began to arrive. 
Seeing that failure was inovitiiblc, they found compensa- 
tion for their trouble in plucking the beautiful, and to them 
new and unlcnown flowers which covered the precipitous 
mountain sides. It fell to my task to classify and name 
them. Besides most of those found on the bench, there 
were three species oi' Astragalus, two of (Enothera, a T'i?s/- 
€aria, a species of Castelegia, and the beautiful Galochortiis 
venustus, as large as a tulip, being, in fact, a three-leaved 
lilv. It was nine o'clock before the last of the party 
returned. • 

At night there Avas a brilliant aurora, wliich, through 
the rare and pure atmosphere of the mountains, showed a 
rich display of colors and heavy waves of light. The 
view, however, Avas obstructed by one of the high buttes 
north of Clear Creek, which shut out everything in that 
direction that was not more than 35 degrees above_tho 
horizon. 



OVER niK PLAINS AND ON TliE MOUNTAINS. 



CHAPTER YI. 

As it was Iho ambition of liomc of our party on tho pre- 
vious evening to sec the sun set from the top of Castle 
Butte, so it was mine to see Iiina rise thence. Early dawn 
found me on the way up to the summit. Passing over the 
int-ervening phiin between the town and the foot of the 
butte or mountain, in tho gra}' lUnvn T t'sjiied coming 
towards me some animal, whicli I at firsi feared might be 
a wolf, but collecting courage 1 faced it boldly. It proved 
to be a large shepherd dog who liad watched his master's 
eowH during the night while they climlted uj) the steep 
sides of the mountain to crop the luscious herbage.. 
Throughout the Kocky ^Lountains, T found it general, that 
it did not matter how ranlc and ]dentiful the grasses 
were '\n iho, vaUeys and canyons, nor how stee]>, nigged 
and dangei'ous the declivities, all animals, even at the 
imminent, risk of their li^■'os, would ascend the steepest 
acclivities to crop the scanty h.crbage of tlu^ cliUs and the 
mountain to|)s. The cows in ([uestion at (lolden, like sen- 
sible animals, selected the coolest part of the day to get 
their tid-bit, ;nid took with tliem a c(.)Ui'ageous and faith- 
ful guard. He seemed to lie glad to see me and accom- 
panied me until 1 returned from my mountain ramble. 
When I got back to the foot of the mountain he sat down, 
and on the ]>lain I saw his owner coming with milk pails. 
Stopping to have a chat, he pointed his linger up the 
mountain and calleti to his dog to "fetch 'em, Jack." I 
told him the dog had been most friendly aiul had piloted 
mo over the mountain. He said, " that he will do for any 
Htranger, as long as he does not meddle with the cows." 

Well, instead of following tho advice I heard the citizens 



OVER THE PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 67 

give to the evening party, lo follow the winding patii 
made b}' the city for the benefit of visitors to the top of 
the mountain, I, like many an im})atient politician, 
thought I would take a shoi-t cut for the attainment of my 
ambition. I saw a ridge, or " hog back," as it is here 
called, right before me which seemed entirely practicable 
for my purpose. As far as the ridge Avas concerned T 
found it so, but suddeiily my '"hog back" gave out, end- 
ing "in a perpendicular precipice fifty feet deep, facing the 
mountiiin. I saw the trap, and also how I could get out 
of it. This was to go down the edge of the precipice, but 
before me there rose the almost impassible barrier of a 
slope up the mountain of an angle of about sixty degrees 
with the horizon, with but little foothold, and what w-as 
m.ore important handhold either. Having determined t<» 
try it, after a most desperate scramble of about one hun- 
dred and fifty yards, I reached the -winding path dug by 
the citizens. Thoroughly disgusted with short cuts, I 
gladly followed it. Looking down, I now first became 
aware of the risk I had run. It made my head swim to 
look down and see that one misste]) Avould have sent me 
rolling and tumbling down the precipitous declivity five 
or six hundred feet. Though almost balked by the mis- 
take made, 1 yet reached the sumVnit fidly twenty minutes 
before the sun show^ed himself above the horizon. (Aastle 
Butte ur Table Ilock, as it is scnnetimes called, from the 
plain below, appeared as though its truncated summit 
might be a scpuire rod in area. I was surprised to find it 
about one acre. Approaching the edge of the precipice, 
one hundred and sixty feet perpendicular, there, apparent- 
ly within a stone's throw, lay Golden. There, too, was 
Clear Creek, breaking from its mountain defile, nearly two 
miles west, I'ushing and foaming and roaring over the 
plain and through the village ; clear as crystal, and like 
a stream of molten silver from its native mountains. It 
was a beautiful, quiet Sabbath morning scene. Sleep had 
not yet left weary eyelids, and all was silent save the ever 



68 OVER THE PLAINS AND ()\ THE MUrNTAIXS. 

murmuring n(^isc of the limpid water. My eye ran up 
and down the yucaiit streets and across tlie bridge span- 
ning this beautiful stream, but no living thing could be 
descried^ except the ever-moving waters. Like a vast 
j)anoraiua the plain spreads out along the foot of the 
mountains until it dips below the horizon, though the 
view is somewhat intei-rupted by the buttes to the north. 
West lay the rifted yet unbroken chain of the mountains, 
terminating southward with Pike's Peak, wliich, like a 
mighty bastion, stands out from the mountain rani])art in 
that direction. To the northward the mountains at length 
dip below the horizon, but far to the northwest the snowy 
summit of Long's Peak lies against the intensely translu- 
cent sky. To the west the scene is exceedingly grand and 
impressive. On the edge of the plain rises to the height 
of two thousand feet a mountain wall of rusty feldspathic 
rock, sometimes ])are and sometimes covered with ever- 
green shrubs and ti-ees, the whole crowned by fir, pine and 
cedar. Behind this wall, peak rises behind peak, until in 
the far West the whole are overtopped now and then, a.s 
seen from here, by a snowy pinnacle. As for the rising 
sun view, it was a failure and disappointment. Over all 
the plain to the east there hung a gray haze, and when the 
sun appeared he seemed to shine through a dull fog bank. 
This was singular, since overhead and through the whole 
mountain region the sky was of an intensely deep blue, 
and the air along the plain skirting the mountains ex- 
tremely transparent. South on the plain, some three 
miles distant, is the large brick edifice of the Episcopal 
College, and some distance beyond stands the Territorial 
School of Mines. East could bo seen several ranches 
whose irrigated fields of dark green contraste(i beautifully 
with the dull gray of the buffalo grass on the plain. Be- 
yond, just discernible through the haze, at a distance of 
sixteen miles, lay Denver, bordered on the west by the 
glistening waters of the South Platte; and from the north 
base of the butte through the intervening plain, like a sil- 



cjVer the tlatns and on thk mountains. 69 

vor lt;uu!, ('lour ('i-oek oduid he trueed initii its janction 
jusl l)(-Iow ncnver Avitii the Platte. 

I'lii'-kidj:; a low rare flowers, amongst which wan tho 
/^.'•^/■y.'<7u//yi a.s/)<^7"U//i ol' delicate orange pur])Ie ; aiul taking 
lip a Miiocadus an memorials of the place, I reluctantly 
turned my back on the enchanting scenery and i-eturned 
to jClolden. 

After an excellent lireakfast. the major ])art ol' our com- 
pany elected to go to the mountains and in the depths of 
their gulches and canyons, and from theii- high pinnacles 
to contemplate and admire the sublimity, grandeur and 
vastness of Nature's works. Clear creek canyon and 
Chimney gulch seemed both to be eligible points for our 
purpose. For two and a half miles np the canyon the 
track for a tiarrow-gauge railroad is graded. The scenery 
in the canyon is sublime, but we Averc assured 
there was no practicable route for ascending any of the 
peaks Avithin a reasonable distance. A half a mile south 
of the canyon lies Chimney gulch, through Avhich flows a 
mountain brook ef clear and cold water. The gulch opens 
a vista into the mountains, and exposes to full view, in 
their third tier of cones, the cidminating })eak in this sec- - 
tion. This was deemed most eligible for our purpose, 
and, therefore, Avas selected as the objectiA-e point of our 
iriountain ramble for the day. To the summit in a direct 
line is only about three and a half niiles, but the doub- 
lings and Avindings of the way leading to it, make it 
betAveen six and scA'cn. The sky Avas of the deepest blue, 
and from it l>eamed a midsummer sun, Avith an ardor and 
brilliancy unknown to other climes. But the craving de- 
sire to see and ex])love the most stupendous of Nature's 
works, Avas too strong to be repressed by the fiery beams 
of a A-ertical sun. Ascending the bench, or ten-ace, that 
here stretches out upon the plain and overlooks Orolden 
and the valley of Clear creek, a Avalk of a mile and a half 
brought us to the mouth of the gulch, up Avhich leads a 
path. Here it at once became evident that Ave had 



70 OVy.R TlIK 1M,.VINS ANT) ON TJIK MOrNT.VIX>. 

turueil ovt'i- :i new leal" of the voliiinc of Xuturr. Xor 
tive, nor slu-uh, nor tlowcr jirosentod familiar species, or 
^•ret.'tcHl UK lif* old :u'(ju:iintunccs. All M-cro lu'W in form, 
iu kind and iu asi:)eet. In ].ines, tln're -were the Phivs pon- 
deroaa^ conforta, fie.rili.s and KdvJi^^, \\w laltei-, El jdnon, of 
Xew Mexico. Of firs or s])ruce thei-e were the Abies Doiigla.^- 
fiii, Engehnaniiii and JJoKiesii. A inaph-, the Am- (jlah- 
rum, so diygnised in the IVn-ni of its leaf as to he unrecogniz- 
able except hy its s:iinara ; a half a dozen new s])ecies of 
tSpirea ; the Xoolka rasphei-rv, with a Itlootn two inches 
in diameter; a shruh, the Jamctia, so called after J)r. 
James, a .companion of Tol. Long, an early explorer, 
whose name is ])eri)etuated in Long's I'eak' ; two species of 
shrubby Votentilhi-'^, and two specie's of evergi-een barber- 
ries, generally known as Mahnriias. The covnns ami the 
rose familii's are also represented by ni'w s])ecies; so also 
are the ]ilum, cherry, serviceberry, huckleberry and rasp- 
berry. In tad, everything Avas new exce])ting t!ie fom- 
mon juni])er, the bearberry ( Arrfosfaj>/n/Ios vrd-iirsi) and 
one or two others. Tn addition to the tlowers below on 
the ]»lain, mostly repeated here, there wei'i^ a yellow Cas- 
tillejia, a large, snowy and sjdendid blue Cohiinbine, two 
species of GiJla, the beautiful (^iFinatis li(/i(st)rifoIia , and her 
not less beautiful, tmd mor<' than half sister, th(^ Atrageve 
(dpiva, the former expanding hei- snowy white sepals fully 
three inches and the lattei- two. Amid such a profusion 
and great varifty of plants, gaudy as well as new, and sur- 
rounded by i-ugged cliffs, mountain ])i'eci])ices and over- 
hantiinii; rocks, that every moment threatened to tiill and 
crush us oi- obstruct out- way, tlie flight of ti?ne was un- 
heeded, ami Ave wt-rt- ascending fhe steep acclivity up 
Avhich our path led, without being conscious of wearine-s.s 
or exhaustion. The mountain air, though the sun Avas 
hot, Avas invigorating; and then at short intervals we 
turned aside to slak(^ our thirst l>y dipping "the gliding 
crystal" from the little mountain streatn that flows 
through the gorge, hid for the most part by ferns; 



OVKR THE ri,AI.\S AND OS THK MOUNTAINS. 71 

amongst which I notic-oJ a 8])o('ioH rcHombling th-^ Pterij^ 
fl(7«e7ma with an enormous leaf, ( frond ), from five to six 
feet high and three wide. Our patli, made for bringing 
down ties for the railroad, Avan extremely rough and tor- 
tuous. The ridges or '* hog hacks" from oppf)site sides of 
the guk-h continually forced the latter from a straight 
line; now forcing it almost at right angles to the left, and 
then back again to the right, so that its course is zigzag. 
The gulch tinally terminates, and a huge "hog back" 
sweeps in iVom the south, terminating, only at the canyon 
wall of Clear creek. The road now slopes up to the north 
until the j-iilge of this "hog back" is reached, when it fol- 
lows up tlie ridge southeastward, to a slight dejjression on 
the top of the mountain. West of this ridge is an im- 
.mense chasm so steep as to be impracticable lor any liv- 
ing thing except the mountain goat. At the l»ottom of 
this chasm runs Clear creek, the roar of whose waters are 
.distinctly heard, though hid from view by the spruce and 
pine trees, on whose tops you look down from this point. 
Ascending the ridge, to the right rises our objective point, 
.the peak, at some ]»laces almost perpendicular, to the 
height of between six and seven hundred feet more. 
Here we met some of our party returning, who had taken 
.advantage of a steep cut-otf up the great "hogback," and 
in about^onc hundred yards climbing had saved a mile of 
Avalkino-. Atiaining the summit and taking a position on 
a projecting rock, they endeavore<l lo attract our atten- 
tion and to direct us where to go by tiring a pistol as soon 
.as w-e Avould come in sight on the -Miog back." Acci- 
dentally the i)istol was prematurely discharged, the ball 
passing through the hand of the party holding it. They 
therefore returned to the water to Avash and tio up the 
wound. Persuaded by them that by going a little to the 
left the ascent of the peak Avas practicable from this side, 
besides saving a mile in distance, the last stated fact deter- 
mined my course, so away T Avent up the acclivity, but 
.soon had reasons to regret the choice I had made, for the 



iZ , OVER TIIK PLAINS AND ON TUK MOUNTAINS. 

soles of my boots soon became as smootli as polished mar- 
ble, making it impossible to keep my feet on the dry 
leaves of the spruce and pine. As it was a que+>tiou 
whether, under these circumstances, a retreat was prefer- 
able to an advance, so I chose the latter, and after the 
most desperate scrambling of all my mountain experience, 
attained the summit ahead of all my companions. 

The summit is level, and covered by a pine and spruce 
grove. Walking in a northwestward direction beyond 
the skirts of the grove, brings you to a bare rock, the 
edge of the ])recipice. The view from Ibis ])oint is most 
enchanting, grand and magnificent. You stand on the 
top ol the south wall of Clear creek canyon, a precipice 
that slopes down 2,500 feet at an angle but few degrees 
removed from the perpendicular. The roaring of the 
creek " like the sound of a rushing mighty wind " rises to 
your ear. To your left at the distance of about two hun- 
dred yards, for a part of tlie way down is a rugged pei-pen- 
dicular wall of naked rocks; but immediately in front the 
declivity is covered with young firs and pine. Since you 
overlook the whole, the side of the declivity appears not 
only covered with a mantle of everlasting green, but 
seems almost as even as if clipped by shears. But as you 
look down the chasm your eyes strain in vain for a sight 
of the bottom, or to eaten a glimpse of the roaring waters 
that flow there. Down, far down as the eyo reaches, the 
tops of gigantic fir or pine trees are the only objects visi- 
ble; tops of troes whose heads are bathed in the light of 
noonday sun, but whose roots are fixed in the bottom of a 
gloomy, dismal chasm. 

Lift now your eyes to the scenery beyond the chasm. 
You see you are looking down on the les.s t^levated 
north wall ol the can^'on, bej'ond which rises gradually 
like a vast amphitheatre, mountain upon mountain ])iled 
against the northwestern sky, and the whole crowned by a 
rampart of everlasting snow. To the north this snowy 
rampart terminates in J^ong's Peak, some fifty miles dis- 



OVER THE PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 73 

tant, which rises fully two thousand feet above the aver- 
:ige height of Snowy Eange. Fai* in the southwest it cul- 
minates in 3Iount Lincoln. As intermediate bastions, 
rise James' and Gray's Peaks, each to the aftitude of over 
14^000 feet above the sea. The first is about twenty-five- 
miles south of Longs' Peak ; the last is about twenty 
railes south of James' Peak, and about thirty miles due 
west from here. Mount Lincoln is the Titan of the 
American Cordilleras, being estimated, according to de- 
terminations made by Prof. A. DuBois, at seventeen 
thousand five hundred feet above the level of the ocean. 
It is nearly ninety miles distant from here, standing at 
the northwest corner of South Park. West of it is the 
Upper Canyon of the Arkansas; north, Middle Park ; and 
southeast, South Park. From its sides issue springs that 
on the southeast feed the South Platte; on the west, the 
Arkansas; and on the north, Blue i-iver, which falls into 
Grand river, a tributary of the great Colorado of the 
West. Notwithstanding its great distance, there it stands 
majestically, towering high above all other peaks, unique 
and inimitable, a Titan among pygmies, like its proto- 
tj'pe, whose name it perpetuates, did amongst men. Its 
ba-se garlanded by evergreens, emblems of immortality, 
and its summit crowned with the symbol of spotless pur- 
ity, the white, persistent snows of untold ages, it is a 
fitting monument to symbolize the towering intellect, and 
to perpetuate the memory of the devout patriotism and 
immaculate purity of the great and wise statesman and 
model President whoso name it bears, and whose 

" Ono of the fnv, th'' ininiortal names 
That wonj not bor:i to die. " 

Long's Peak and Mount Lincoln, terminating the ex- 
treme visible points of the Snowy Range, as seen hence, 
from their great altitude appear like immense bastions at 
the angles of an icy rampart, behind which stern winter 
lies intrenched forever. To the south the view is ob- 



74 OVER TUK PL.\I.\S AND ON TIIK MOUNTAINS. 

stnu'ted by u ]»inc uiid Hpruoc foivst, but on the *.*a^t thero 
i.s a line view of tho plains for one hundred inile^j and 
more. At a point or two south of east and twenty niilen 
distant, but ap])arently near the foot of the mountains, 
lies Denver. You look down into its streets, and from far 
south of it to down north of Greeley, where it meets the 
Cache a la Poudre, the sparklins:^ waters of the South 
Platte are seen. The Plains are an xinvaried gray, witJi 
nothing to give them variety excepting the irrigated fields 
along the vSouth Platte and (Hear creek, and the line of 
straggling Cottonwood trees that skirt their brinks. 

To the northeast, far beyond the Platte, appeared what 
.«<eemed to bo two beautiful lakes on tho plains. One of 
our ladv companions mistaking them for such, lo unde- 
ceive her I told her they were only i>hantoni luk*\s, the 
optical deceptions of mirage; giving the Avord thoFreiich, 
l)ut also the only authori/.ed English jironounciation. 
^' And ])ray, " said she, ''what is ?//(>acA.'" To explain, I 
hegan by telling her it is one of those things 

'•Fdi- wli'u'h ilii' six'i'cli of EnL^limd had no luuno. " 

In Italy they call it Fata Morgavo. It was observed 
there in ancient times as is abundantly evident from both 
Greek and Poman records. Along the Straits of Me.«.sina 
then, as now, the coast and objects below the horizon 
sometimes loomed up above it; at other times seemed to 
approach the opposite shore, and what was more astonish- 
ing, oftentimes seemed to bang inverted from the sky. 
"Why," she replied, ''that is mi-rage." I llu'n saw what 
was the matter and felt relieved, for I l)egan to fear that 
if I attempted the explanation of special atmospheric con- 
ditions, diflteront densities of adjacent superincumbent 
layers of air, and the consequent refraction of light, that I 
would succeed in making it plain that neither 1 nor the 
learned knew a particle more about the true nature of tho 
phenomenon tlian the common people do. Indeed, 1 



OVER THE PLAIN'S AXD OX THE MOt'XTAIXS. 75 

Tnade a narrow esoajie of exposing the fact that I was 
talking phylosophy, if judged ])y the Scotchman's rule, 
who always kncM- when a man talked metaphyHics ; 
namely "when you ean'na tell what, lie means, and lu> 
din'na ken hinisel." 

As already stateil I had reaclu^d llie mountain tup iUliy 
half an hour in advance of my companions. On the edge 
of the grove and near the brink of the ])recipice, there 
stands a perpendicular rock, some twenty feet high and 
about the same width. At the base, near its north end, 
there is about as beautiful a bench rock, some twenty 
inches wide, as if inade b}' Jiand. ]t is a part of a huo-o 
rock which foces north-west, and for live feet this bench 
protrudes from the side. Where it terminates, there stands, 
with its trunk against the rock, a low headed spi-uce, com- 
pletely shading for ten feet and more the ground around 
its roots, breaking off some dry limbs that interfered 
with the use of the bench, I sat down to rest until the 
fompany w<.>uld arrive, and to enjoy the nuigniticenl scen- 
ery of evergreen mountains, bounded In' everlasting 
snows in the distance that lay stretched out like a vast 
panorama before uie. 

Answering a call, soon brought the greater part of the 
company to the spot, whei'e they gave vent to their enthu- 
siasm at beholding the grand sight by a yell that would 
have done credit to the Utcs themselves. 

Approposj why is this impulse for whooping so univer- 
sal in all, even in the almost inexcitable, on reaching these 
elevated regions ? Some think it is owing to the excite- 
ment produced by so great variety of novelty, or an out- 
burst of enthusiasm at beholding so much grandeur and 
sublimity. Judging by my own experience 1 cannot con- 
ceive these to be the true caxises. I felt an irre])ressible 
desire to whoop long before I saw anything at all as extraor- 
dinarily impressive. Moreover, when I stood face to face 
before the shrine of Nature, and contemplated her inimita- 
ble beauty, bewildering grandeur and imposing majesty, I 



76 OVKR THK PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 

tclt as tlioui^'h a whisper would bo sa('rili;j;i()us jirolanity- 
1 think the causes are physiological and iiol. acstheticv. 
Dwellers in the Mississippi Valley or on the sea shore,, 
breathe an atmosphere so dense that their average respir- 
ations are but sixteen jier juinute. J>ut here on the laouii- 
tains, the respirations are increased to twenty-four per 
niiiuite; and the pulsations of the heart and the flow of 
blood in the veins are accelerated in like proportion. The 
effect on the system is an exhilaration almost amounting to 
intoxication, and hence that outburst of feeling which 
affects all, and which it is found so difficult to repress. 

liesigning my scat on the rock to a lad}', who made u 
sketch of the mountain scenery and the Snowy Kauge for 
her children, I sought shelter imder the shade of a most 
magniticent Douglass spx'uce, whose jtendant l>rancbes~ 
swept the ground for some distance around. Here I laid 
down on the dry tir and pine leaves that made a bed as 
soft as a mattress. Professor Kelsey, of Kansas, soon 
joined me, and we talked until we fell asleep. Awaking,, 
we found our company all gone, and the mountain silent^ 
Breaking a branch of the tree as a grateful memorial of" 
the pleasant h(Uirs spent under it« shade, Ave wended our 
way down the mountain towards Golden, where we arrived 
in time for supper. 



OVEK TUK PLAINS AND UN THE MOUNTAINS. 



I i 



CHArTEPv VIL 

Early on Monday, June 12th, we left Golden on the 
xnorning train for Denyer, where ^ye arriyed in ample 
time to take the train of the Denyer Pacific railroad for 
Cheyenne, in Wyoming Territory, one hundred and Bix 
miles north. By an amended act of Congress the Kansas 
Pacific railroad was released from its obligation to connect 
with the Union Pacific railroad at the 100th meridian, and 
the law so changed as to require it to connect with t h. 
XTnion Pacific railroad at a point not more than 50 miles 
west of the meridian of Denyer. The Kansas Pacific con- 
sequently followed up the general route of the Smoky 
Hill to Denyer, with the intention of ultimately connecting 
with the Union Pacific hence. As the land grant of Con- 
.<rress extends the whole length of the line, the Kansa^s 
Pacific encouraged the formation of a new company, whose 
initial point was Denyer, to make this junction. Accord- 
ingly the Denyer Pacific Eailroad Company was organized, 
and by a subsequent act of Congress the Kansas I acific 
was authorized to transfer its lands and the franchises ot 
that portion of the line from Denyer to the junction, to the 
^ew company. It was late in the fall of 1867 when the 
mitiai steps for the organization of the new company were 
first taken. The land grant amounts to 12,800 acres for 
every mile of the length of the road ; or more specifically 
the lands granted by Congress were alternate, that is odd 
numbered sections for ten miles on each side of the road 
'The work was commenced at Cheyenne ; and on the 16th 
of December, 1869, the road was completed and opened a.s 
far as Eyans, a distance of 53 miles; and on the 23d of 
June, 1870, the first passenger train arrived at Denver 



78 OVl.R, TIIK PLAINS AND ON TIIK MOUNTAINS. 

The total cost ofconstructioii and e(|ui|iniont of the road 
is Kiid to bo $3,000,000. 

At 8 o'f'l()( k the train stai'ted heading (hie north. The 
phiin appeaiv<l <li'y and parclied in eonseqnenee of the 
prominence and ])i'evalenco of the dead "juesquite" gi-ass. 
But imderneatli tliis sere covering of mesquite is a thick 
coating of Butlah-) gi-ass (Buehloe dactyloides) possessing 
most extraordinary nutritive qualities. At short intervals- 
wc passed large herds of cattle feeding on this a})parently 
arid plan\ in the best condition. Often these were accom- 
panied by herdsmen. The road is straight, and its direc- 
tion is down the valley of the Platte, but the river is 
generally several miles to the Avest and can be traced by 
an occiisional cotton wood. It soon becomes evident that 
tho direction of the road diverges from that of the moun- 
tain range J for tho mountains apparently recede farther 
and farther to tho west; w'acreas their course is due north 
and south. Long's I'ealc is now the central figure, tower- 
ing far above all the neighboring peaks. 

The first station, seventeen miles north of .|)envep, is 
Hughes', the junction of the Boulder Valley i-ailroad; but 
the first town is J'^vans, tho county scat of Weld county. 
Evans claims to be a 8t. Louis colony, but 1 could leai*n 
nothing of its organization, advantages nor investments. 
It seemed to me as though its inhabitants were singularly 
deficient in enterprise and energ}', and that they have 
very little to do other than that ol running to the station 
when a tvain arrives; at least such was the cuse each time 
we passed ; and we can scarcely imagine that rumor had 
noised it abroad that in the coming train were great men 
worth seeing — A'et such may have been the case, and a 
hoax played of on them may explain their conduct. 

Four miles north of Evans is Greeley, about which 
there has been more written and published within a yeai'^ 
than of any other place on the globe beside. Its history, 
in brief, is this: The colony was organized in tho city of 
.New I'ork, on the 2od of December, ]869, by tho enroll- 



OVER THE PLAINS AND OX THE MOIJNTATNS. 



79 



mont of fifly-nuio members. An executive coramittee 
was ai^poiuled to investigate what advantiigesand induee- 
nicnts were offered to settlers by Xebraska, Kansas, 
"VVyominjr, Uttih and Colorado. After an investigation, 
the Executive Committee selected the site for the town 
between the Cachc-a-la-Poudro and tlie South Platte, 
three miles above their junction, about fifty miles south of 
Cheyenne, an<i iifty-six north of Denver, on the Denver 
Pacific railroad. The distance from the mountains is 
about forty-live miles. But I must draw you a pen-and- 
ink sketch of the topography and sceneiy surrounding 
this famous place, that you may know how it looks: 
Suppose you take a position locking ncrth, on the rail- 
road bridge spanning the Platte south -f Evans. Beneatk 
you flows a mountain torrent one huidred i.nd thirty 
3-ards wide, brimful], yet clear as crystal, roarii.r and 
dashing down the plain. It is a ncble, majcrtic i.nd beau- 
tiful stream. No bushes encumber its edges, i^r ba-.ks it 
has none, because the level plain sinks down with it; bur- 
then of grass and flowers to kiss the silver wave. Like 
the shores of Loch ^fary : 

"Just a lino of pebbly sand 
Marks where the water meets the land- " 

The ])]ain, level as a barn floor, is covered with the 
persistent, but now dry mesquite grass, and has, therefore^ 
the color of a newly harvested oat-field. Some eight 
miles distant, and stretching to the northwest until lost 
sight of in the distance, is a very straggling line of low 
Cottonwood trees, the only sign of living vegetation. The 
plain extends west to the mountains, forty to forty-five 
miles distant, and rests against them. It has a regular 
ascent from hero to the mountains of fifty feet per mile, 
but is entirely destitute of vegetation excepting the hid- 
den buffalo grass and the dry mesquite. Far towards the 
east the plain seems to culminate in a ridge, probably 



^80 OVER THE PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 

merely mirage, which often on the Plains seemingly raise-^ 
up the edges of the horizon like the rim of asaueeraround 
you. Before you is the village of Evans, and four miles 
further is Greeley, beyond -which sweeps the Cache-a-la 
Poudre, marked out over the plain by tlie aforesaid line 
of Cottonwood. In the fir north rise elevationsof a whit- 
ish greenish gray, indicating that the mcsquite has been 
supplanted by some otlier vegetation. Down, northeasl, 
after the junction with the Cache-a-la-Poudre, sumo three 
miles below Greeley, the course of the Platte can be 
traced by the Cottonwood, until it sinks below the hori- 
zon. There you have a picture of Greeley and its suj-- 
roundings, which in all conscience is monotonous cnougii. 

The colony })urchased of the Denver Pacilic Jlailroad 
Company and from individuals 12,000 acres of land. The 
preliminary steps, that is, by i)i'e-emption, etc., t')r llio oc- 
cupation of G0,000 acres of government lands, and also a 
conti'act was made with the Denver Pacific Company to 
purchase within three years 50,000 acres more, at from 
$3 to $4 per acre. The colony thus has control of some 
12"), 000 acres of land, all of which can be irrigated from 
canals from the South Platte and ('ache-a-la-Poudre. 

The town is subdivided into 520 biLsiness lots, 25 by IM 
feet; 673 residence lots, ranging from 50 to 200 by 190 
feet; and 277 lots reserved ft)r schools, churches, ])ublic 
buildings, etc. The adjacent lands are subdivided into 
plats from 5 to 120 acres each, according to distance from 
the oentre of the town, and each member allowed to select 
one of these under his certificate of membersliij). The 
town now^ contains about 350 buildings, from board shan- 
ties to brick fronts. It has some seventeen stores, three 
lumber yards, three blacksmith and wagon shops, and one 
printing press. It has an Educational Board, Farmers' 
Club and Lyceum and Library Association. As far as 
the e^'e can rcacli the plain is dotted with new shanties of 
the homesteaders and pre-emptioners. Some of our party 
stopped over until the return of the train from Cheyenne. 



OVER THK PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAIN?;, 81 

They intorviewed the citizens, ])nt the latter .seemed eo 
reticent and averse to communicate infoiTiiation oranHwer 
questions, that nothing of importance, either concerninef 
the progress or prospects of the colony, was elicited. It 
is not possibk^ for any one merely looking from the car 
window of a train to form any accurate opinion of the 
condition and capabilities of a sOil, or to form an accurate 
judgment of the art and skill with which it is handled. If 
it were, then, I must confess that the opinion so formed Lh 
not of the most favorable character as to Greeley. In thia 
case the opinion of those who stayed over, and had bettor 
ojiportunities than I had, not only coincide with my own, 
but are even more unfavorable. In the first place the land 
is very gravely, forming naturally graveled streets, and 
certainly not of the fii'st quality for agriculture; and then 
it seemed as though those who had the management of it 
knew next to nothing of the way things have to be done 
in this climate. Gardens were flooded and literally 
drowned out; and of the thousand of trees planted, both 
evergreen and deciduous, not hundreds were living from 
the same ciiuse. It would have paid the colonists well if 
they had hired some New Mexican to have taught them 
the art of iri'igation, and some expert tree-planter who 
would have shown them how to plant and to take care of 
a tree. It seemed as though the greater part of the colo- 
nists were mere theorists, and were for the first time in a 
situation to reduce their theories to practice. But we 
have hope they Avill profit by their mistakes, and guard 
against their recurrence. As a matter of course it could 
have been anticipated that dreams and expectations of 
enthusiastic natures, wlio are most likely to engage iu 
such an enterprise as this, would not be realized in a day, 
nor even in a year. Moreover they may be so outre aa 
not to be realizable. Consequently, disappiointment is to 
be expected, and, necessarily dissatisfaction and grum- 
bling. Perhaps the management has not at all times been 
Ihe wisest; and there may have been over-reaching oa 



82 OVER THK PLAINS AM) ON THK MOUNTAINS, 

tho part of some in{inu<^ers for self aggraudizciiiciil una' 
personal uinbition ; hut Biill the ontcrpriso seems to Lavo 
tho eleincnls of iiltimato hiicc'Cbs, notwithstanding the 
hardships it imposes on its pioneers and tho many ])resont 
diseouragements. 

At present the pi'ospect of tinding a market Ibv its sur- 
plus productions, is not of the most flattering nature. It, 
iH sixty-five miles to Boulder, by rail, tho only inlet into 
the mountains at this ])oint; to Cheyenne it is fifty, and 
to Denver lifty-six miles. To be sure there is some 
talk of (-onstructing a i-ailroad direct to Boulder, forty-five 
miles distant, But in that case the citizens on tho Plains 
around Houlder will have tlie advantage of them, to thev 
amount of freight and charges. 

Alter -jiassing the; ('a,ehe-a-la-J'oudr*', aiiothci- of thosv? 
bold. liiii]>id ami i-apid mountain streams, the plain af- 
eends ra[»idly 1,1)75 ie<i in the forty miles to Summit Sid- 
ing, and t.lien descends into a valley, whence it rises to the 
ridge on which is Clieyenne. ("heyenne is 6,041 feet. 
above the sea and 375 feet lower than at Summit Si<iing. 
Soon after ci-ossing the (vache-a-la-Pbudre the character of 
tho plain changes, Tlie mesqnite grass disappears,, the 
soil becon\es a lighter (;olor, it even appears whitisli, and 
the only vcigetaliou on hill and ])laiii is the short Imffalo 
o-nif-s anil ])rickly pear <.!r cactus. The latter in full 
bhjom, exteiKling its yellow blossoni fully to the size of a 
hoUv-hock, Ilillierto the oidy color was yellow, but now 
a brownish pirrple is intermixed with tlu> yellow,, antf 
often alone occupies large ])atches. The ])i-ai]'ie-dog vil- 
lages also ari> more numerous, and ther«; is a. lively time 
in them when the train approaches. Hundreds of tho 
dogs, big an<l little, can be seen running for dear life to 
their holes. But there stands the stolid burrowing ow! 
on tho hillock, fixed as if ho were a brass statuette, un- 
mindful of everything that passes around him. 

The hills occasionally show caps of rocks, frequently as*- 
saming tho shapes of low pillars, pymmids and occaf^ion.- 



OVER THE PI.AINS AND ON THK MOUNTAINS. 83 

ally of ruined castloK, In a valley on the plain is a. luosit 
.singulai' one of the latter. It stands within tifty feet of 
the railroad. It is about forty feet square with an exten- 
sion eastward for half the length of the east "wflll, say 
Iwenty feet more. The wail is about thirty inehes thick, 
and its average height is about four feet. Facing the road 
at the southwest corner is a space of about four feet wide, 
making an opening in the enclosure wdiich is covered with 
grass and looks for all the world as though it had been 
the doorway. The sides of this open space are perpendic- 
ular rock, weatherworn and rounded as with architectural 
design. The wall also has angular dej)ressIons that re- 
semble openings for windows. It simulates the work of 
man so closely that it would be mistaken for such did 
its exposure not disclose that it is a single rock 

With the exception of these castellated rocks jirotrud- 
ing, for the most part, from the hilltops, the scenery for 
the fifty miles betweer\ Greeley and Cheyenno is ex- 
tremely monotonous. The rolling plain is covered with 
a coat of buifalo grass ofunvaried greenish gray, enameled 
now and then by a stray plant of the deepest blue peren- 
nial larkspur {Delphinium azureum,') a red Penstamon, an 
indigo blue Oxytropis, and occasionally a spot covered 
with Cactus. 

At Cheyenne 3'our e^^o sweeps in vain around the hori- 
zon for an object to rest upon, nor shrub, nor li'ee, nor 
rock is visible at any point or in any direction. Alone, 
the mountain to])s are to bo seen, seventy or eighty miles 
away, pretruding their icy pinnacles above the southwest- 
ern rim of the horizon ; all else is vacuity except plain 
and sky. Such is the weary monotonous scenery of the 
plain in and around Cheyenne. Again, as in the case of 
Denver, the question rises spontaneously, why was this 
point selected for a city ? and again the answer is, by ac- 
cident; that accident was the arbitrary choice of the man- 
agers of the Union Pacific railroad locating their machine 
^ops here. Like Denver, it has streets graveled by Na- 



84 OVy.K TllK 1'I.AINS AM) ON THE MOfNTMNS. 

ture, which never need repiiii-inu- ; I>ui unlike it in this re- 
spect, that the gravel restH upon a soliil foundation and 
not ujjon quicksand Cheyenne, unlike its sister city, 
Denvei-, will, thevelbiv, never l>e alTiicte<l with a periodi- 
cal paroxism of treasure seeking, looking for the city safe. 
Even our eastei-n cousins are not exempt from similar 
attacks of more or less severity and frequency, during 
which they vigorously hunt for the mythical treasures hid 
by Captain Jvidd. But the gravelly streets of Denver, or 
rather the pehhly Itottom ol the South rialte, hides a real 
treasure, which occasions the outbreak of the mania in 
Denver; lin- on an ever memorable morning in 1804, 
Cherry Creek being '"on a bender," the gloiy of Denver, 
the City Hall, containing the city's sale and its treasures, 
took its tleparture down stream, and linally disap]>eared 
in the quicksand like a dissolving view, leaving nor 
wreck norti-ace beliind. 

Forbidding as is the appearance of the landscape 
around Cheyenne, and oppressively monotonous as is its 
scenery, yet there is the demonstration being made of the 
value of these apparently aiid plains, for grazing and 
stock-ntising. Here are mt'i\ who own cattle by thous- 
ands, aiul who are realizing from ten to twenty thousand 
net prolit annually from their flocks. More than 6,000 
feet above the sea level, and forty-one degrees and more 
of north latitude, yet cattle here need no shelter or feed- 
ing the year round, subsisting upon the natural hay of the 
country, the dry buffalo grass, and going through the win- 
ter in better condition than cattle do in the States u])on 
both food and shelter. And then if you desire to know 
what a tendi'r, Jui(y' ami savory beefsteak is, let me com- 
mend you te> try that raised and liittened u])on the buffalo 
grass of the western plains. 1 have afmndant statistics on 
hand to show the lunnber of the flocks of different own- 
ers and their annual profits, on tlie plains along the foot 
of the mountains hence to south of Denver, which I miLst 
here omit. Sheep do splendidly, and a7-e entirely exempt 



OVER THE PLAINS AVU dN' THE MOUNTAINS. 85 

from (liseaseH. Large flocks arc hoing introduced an- 
nually j a Boston company alone has a herd of 25,000 
head. 

After an excellent dinner at Cheyenne, we took the re- 
turn ti'aiii for Denver, where we arrived at hali-past six 
o'clock. Finding carriages in waiting, we hastily drove 
through Denver, crossing the tine bridge over the Platte,* 
and ascended the plateau beyond from which there is a 
fine view of Denver and the surrounding country. The 
plateau is in high tilth, being irrigated by canals brought 
from the Platte on the south, and Clear creek on the 
north. The crops looked fine, but we had no time to 
make a ci'itical examination of their mode of cultivation 
and irrigation, as the sun was setting. Finally turning in 
at the gate, we found ourselves in Mr. Perrin's strawberry 
patch, and were abundantly supplied with fruit. But 
without halting Ave drove down the plateau and across 
Clear creek, hero one hundred and fifty feet wide, three 
feet deep, and running with such fearful velocity as threat- 
ened to sweep carriage and horses down with the tor- 
rent. 

On the plain north of the creek, and within fifty yards 
of the brink, stands Mr. Perrin's residence. Alighting, 
wo had just time to inspect, before dark, his highly culti- 
vated and artistically irrigated vegetable garden of about 
three acres. We were both delighted and surjjrised at 
tlie large size and vigorous growth of every kind of culin- 
ary vegetables. As we are jirpmised samples of beets, 
tui-nips and cabbages for exhibition at our next St. Louis 
Fair, our citizens will have an opportunity of seeing for 
themselves what Colorado can do in the way of vegeta- 
bles. Supper being announced, but as the distance was 
about five miles from Denver, the major part of tlie party 
who were going away with the eastward bound train, left, 
which was to be regretted, as the vexed strawberry (pies- 
tion would have been settled by the best proof in the 
world — the eating. I^arger, finer-flavored and more lus- 



86 OVKR TIIK ri.AINH AM) ON Till'; MOUNTAINS. 

cious strawljorrit'si I never tasted than were furnished for 
desert that evenin<^. I soon deserted the eom])any and 
went out on the verandali. It was now fpiite dark, and I 
t^iit down to he soothed In- the evei"-niurnnn'ini<; waters of 
('k'ar creek, which sweeps around on two sides — west and 
.south — of Mr. J*errin's phice. Oh, it in a phice for night- 
dreaming, and day-dreaming, li»o! Ijeaving, wt^ drove 
leisurely back to J)enver, in the sjilendid et|ui[)age of 
Mr. J^j-ers, of the Denver jVetrs, whei'c we arrived l>efore 
the dejiarture ot our fi-iend.^. 

At lialf-])Mst nine we took leave; of the major part of our 
party, who mitc )-('(iirning liome; but there wert; twelve 
of us, who thouglit. that it would not be entirely satisfac- 
t07"y to come 1.000 miles to see the great temj)le ofXatui"^, 
and then turn back after having only entered its vesti- 
liule. Besides the lioulder ( 'Ount\' Agricultui'al Associa- 
tion, the only one in the Territory that had acknowledged 
our presence, had extended to us, by a committee on the 
day of our arrival in Denver, a cordial invitation to visit 
Boulder City. This invitation a few of us had at once ac- 
cepted, and consefpiently the committee liad gone back to 
make the necessary arrangements. This engagenu'iit we 
now determined to fulhll, and this incident determined the 
point of our mountain excursion and movements while we 
remained in the Territory. Boulder (.Mty, in a direct line 
from Denver, is but twenty-eight miles, but the railroad 
traversing two sides of a triangle, makes it forty- 
seven. The Boulder Valley railroad meets the Denver 
Pacific at Hughes, seventeen miles northeast of J)enver; 
tJience to Erie is seventeen miles more — as far as tlie road 
is now completed — and thence twelve miles ]>y stage to 
Iktulder City. 

At Krie is a vein ol excellent coal, twelve tVel tiiick. 
The Kansas Pacitic railroad tapped this coal by a road 
from Hughes', but the grading is now done, and the ties 
arc being rapidly laid up to Boulder City, the road to be 
completed by the time of the ]]oulder Fair, in September 



OVF.It THE PLAINS AND ON' TUK MOUNTAINS. 87 

This veil! of coal ooii.tinues up to Boulder twelve mile<H, 
where it is thirteen feet thick, and where four other veins 
exist, namely: one twenty, one four and a lialf, one five, 
:and another seven feet thick. The next day Avhen we 
iirrived at Erie, we found our Boulder friends waitini; with 
spring wagons, liacks, buggies and carriages to convey us 
to Boulder rily, a distance of twelve miles over the 
plains. 

The road is on :i jilalcau or terrace, south of, and slight- 
ly elevated above the plain, through which runs Boulder 
Creek. Far down northeast as the eye can reach towarrh-i 
■Oreeley the shimmering waters of Boulder Creek can be 
*ieen, or their direction traced by a straggling line of Cot- 
tonwood and a dai'k green belt of from five to seven miles 
wide, of wheat, rye, barley and corn fields, irrigated by its 
^s'aters. Midway between you and the mountai ns, and some 
half a mile north of the creek, is White Rock, lookinglike 
A huge snowbank, a conspicuous object from all the plain 
iiround; and immediately opposite, on the south side of 
the creek, is Yalmont, one of those sporadic buttes of 
erupted l)asalt occasionally found on the jtlain along tho 
foot of the mountains. It is oOO feet high, rising some- 
what in the form of a liaystack, and at its base occupies 
; about an acre in area. It terminates in a curicuis basaltic 
Crolumn, curved somewhat like a horn leaning northward. 
At its foot is tho village of Yalmont. Yalmont Mill stands 
:n few rods northwest, and beyond the Boulder is White 
Hock Mill. As soon as the mill is passed Boulder City, 
■ on the Plains at the foot of the mountains, and five miles 
distant, comes into full view. Here also the South Boul- 
der joins the main stream. The country between here 
;ind the mountains is all under cultivation, covered with 
tai'inhouses surrounded liy the linest farms, irrigated by 
the waters of the two Boulders, which issue from their 
mountain defiles at points about five miles distant from 
«-".ach other. 

We soon pa.s8 the Agricultanil Fairgrounds, forty acres 



b« OVKR THK l'I>.\INS AND ON THE MOrNTAlNS. 

with the neceHKary buihlings, tho whole ivu'h)se(l by a tight, 
fence. Juat northeast of Bouhler is one of those remarka- 
ble benches or terraces already spoken of, Burrounded oil 
all sides by a plain rising about thirty feet high. It is an. 
oblong ellipse, having its transverse diameter at right 
angles to the mountain chain. It contains about fifteen 
acres, and has been selected for tho site of tho State- 
University when Colorado beconaes a State. 

Arriving at Boulder we were received at the ('olorado- 
House by Xha citizens en masse, and addressed in their- 
behalf by Judge Berkley, tendering to xis the hospitaliites- 
of the city during our stay, and offering to place at our- 
dis])osal conveyances to visit any points of interest, either 
around the (-ity oi* in the mountain canyon, that we might 
desire. I, by arrangement, responded to the reception 
erpoech, as the I)enver Tribune reporter, flatteringly no 
doubt, said, " in very appropriate terms, " thanking the 
citizens for tho distinguished honor conferred upon us, but 
declining in behalf of the Missouri and Kansas delegation 
tho generous offer of froo rides ad libitum. In a country 
where, to us, there was so much novelty, so much to inter- 
est, and such sublime and magnificent scenery, tho offer- 
was entirely too generous and tho inducement too great 
"to ride a willing horse to death;" wo therefore most 
gratefully declined it, and i)laced ourselves at their own 
disposal, to visit only such ]dnces as they might deem 
most interesting. 

After a dinner, sumptuous enough foi* ])riuces, we were 
driven around tho suburbs, visiting some of the adjacent 
farms, examining the condition of tho growing crops, tho 
canals and ditches foi", and tho method of irrigating, pick- 
ing the most luscious strawberries wo ever saw, and end- 
ing by a drive up to the mouth of Boulder canyon, to see 
thehead of tlic iiTigating canals which begin in the canyon 



OVKR TUK ri.AlN.S AM) ON' THE MOl/NTAINK. Si) 

and branch off both right and left, from the crc-ek as soon 
as it entern the plain. 

The weary Sun had mndo a pjoldon eet, 
And, by th(3 briijjht track of his fiery car, 
Gave token of a goodly day to-morrow. 

The citizens now had settled that on the next day they 
would give us a picnic up in Boulder canyon; and so we 
retii-ed to rest with bright anticipations of tomorrow. 



'DO 0\K& THK I'LAi-NS A.ND ON THK MOUN'TAIJfS. 



Gir AFTER vin. 

From peculiar ineteorologiciU cau.soH, which it is not 
necessary here to state or explain, dew never falls on the 
Plains adjacent to the mountains. A morninp;'ri walk 
theretbre, can be enjoyed without incurring the drawbacks 
ofwet feet and soiled garments, and without having the 
apectcr of chills aiul fever flitting constantly before your 
eyes. Then, too, the sky is always so bright, the air ho 
pure and exhilai-ating, the songs of strange birds so charm- 
ing, the murmuring of the mountain torrents, dashing head- 
long down the plain, so soothing, and the scenery so bold 
and captivating, that ears and eyes are never satiated. 
Stolid and phlegmatic must bo the nature of that man, or 
woman either, who here can act the sluggard, whei-e Na- 
ture puta on her gayest attire and most majestic mien, aa 
■Avell as displays her wildest and most phantastic forms. 

Under such influences and Impulses, even at the risk of 
.disturbing tiie tranquility of our host, the ilev. Nathan 
Thompson, and his estimable lady, whose hospitality we 
were enjoying, Mrs. T. and I were up early, and out for 
a morning's ramble up to the mountains and along their 
base, to drink in liealth from the pure, invigorating moun- 
tain air, and inspiration from the scenery surrounding us. 

Mr. Thompson's house stands about one-thii-d of the way 
up the sk)pe of a terraced ])lateau that lies against the 
mountains, extending from Boulder canyon to the fii-st 
gulch nortli, distant from the mountain at this, the farthest 
point, about 400 yards. Like all these elevated plateaux, 
it is ])erfectly level on the top; but the elopes are as 
neiitlyand as smoothly rounded off as if done by hand. 
'These benches, as they are here called, are unquestionably 



OVKR THK PLAINS AND ON THK MOUNTAINS. 91 

the remains of" abrasions, reeonls of events lonj'" anterior 
to the existence of man, when the pent up "waters of moun- 
tain lakes broke throuijfh the roeky barriers, and issuing" 
iVom tlie ^uk'hes and canyons with irrisistil)le ibree dep;rH- 
ded tlie phiin to its jjresent kn'e!. The sU)pe rises with an an- 
•rle of about ihii-t y (h'ti'i-ees with the horizon, and tlie summit 
of the bencrh is about forty feet above the level of the plain. 
Ml'. Thompson's house stands near tlie north end, and his 
f'hurch (Congrt^gational) on the south end ol' a live acre 
lot, lying against this bench on the east side. Above and 
higher than the top of his house and along ihe edge of the 
level summit of the bench is an irrigating canal carrying 
from Eoulder canyon a rapid stream of water five feet 
wide and thirty inches deep. Up to this canal and along 
its margin northwest wardl}' lay our morning walk. 

From the plain on the top of this bench the view is 
"Charming, and in any other country than this would be en- 
titled to the terms grand and magnificent. West and north- 
west the precipitous walls of brownish porpliyritic rock ris- 
ing from the edge of the plain to the height of from 1500 to 
4000 feet;* mostly nude, but incidentally at many places 
there are narrow terraces, bearing evergreen shrubs and 
dwarf pine, cedar and spruce trees. Southwest is Boulder 
canyon, an immensely deep, narrow rift in the mountain ; 
and beyond it rises a most singular protuberance, oblong, 
rugged and imposing, to an altitude of 4000 feet and more. 
lis roof-shaped top starts from terraces on both the east 
and west sides, and runs up as steep as the steepest roof of 
a gothic church for some 600 feet, the ridge running north 
and south. But what is most singular, along the eastern 
terrace rise no less than six abutments, looking for all the 



* "Tho sconeryAlo^igtlie flunks of tlicinouiitiins is wonderfully unique, 
and T have not seen a similnr oxanijili' in the Kooky Mountain region. 
The uplift is on an unparalleled scali-. The mountain wall, u tremen- 
dous uplift of met'unorphosed sand-stcme rises 4000 feet above Boulder 
Valley on the ])lains below, and their rugged summits project far over 
■on thegrauitif roelcs westward. " Prof. /fav'le/i'.< Gt<jlo;ii':al rtpoH of 
J869. 



^2 



OVKR TIIK rL.\INK AND ON THB MOrXTAINft. 



world like pilasters, extending 5il»ove the terrac*; and ter--. 
minating in sharp qnadrangular pyramids, some tliree hun- 
dred and fitly feet high. South of this singular mountain 
is Bear Gulch, a correct engraving of which can be seen in 
"Views from Nature. " Beyond Bear Gulch rises another 
high mountain, round-topped and dome-shaped, ending in 
a narrow peak hko a sow's teat. Tl\is closes the mountain 
view south from this point. 










llUULDKll. 



Turn now your face towards the east. To youi- riglity. 
southeastward, you see a bench about four miles distant j 
there is Marshall's c<nil mine, and near this l)cnch on the 
plain are seen the sparkling ■waters of South Boulder 
creek. That building beside it is ^Marshall's iron works. 
Then, on the intervening plain, are seen farm-houses and 



UVEit THE I'liAI.NS AND ON TUE MOUNTAINS. 9S 

■wreen fields u\> to the main Boulder creek, u dashing 
mountain torrent, Jiusteiiing down the plain to embrace 
her sister stream. At your feet, between the elevation on 
which you .stand and the creek, is Boulder City, which 
you entirely overlook, extending iiortlnvard on the j)laiu 
between you and the University plateau, which lies im- 
mediately cast, Down on the i:^lain eastward in the dis- 
tance, is seen Mr. Day's and other ranches, on the South 
Boulder. Then there is the fine lake between the two 
Boulders, formed since the plain has become irrigated, now 
well stocked with fine fish — mosilj' perch and redhorse. 
]?C oarer still, the house in that dense coppice is the resi- 
dence of Judge George Berkley, the oldest and most en- 
thusiastic tree-planter in the Territory ; and nearer etil! 
come the fiiir grounds, Avith its inclosed buildings. Bui 
over all, and beyond, is seen that singular butte or basal- 
tic dyke, Yahnont, raising its isolated cone on the plain; 
and to the left of it, that white object like an immense 
snow bank, is White Hock. 

In the northeast, at a distance of about ten miles, is seen 
Haj'stack Mountain, another of those isolated basaltic 
cones, that at long intervals are found protruding fromtho 
level plain. Tho^o buildings near its base are the vil- 
lages of Burlington and Longmont — the latter a new colony 
from Chicago — organized somewhat on the principles of 
that at Greeley. Around these, and extending up to the 
mountains, are seen ranches and green fields, and the un- 
cultivated plain covered with cattle. This gives a some- 
what fiiint idea of the scenery i'roui this point, to which 
must be added, to complete the picture, the light green 
color of the plain as compared with the sombre evei*- 
greens which deck the porphyritic sides of the mountains. 

As we were strolling leisurely towards the mountain, 
plucking flowers and examining the pebbles for moss 
agates, our attention was suddenly drawn to the thrilling 
notes of the skylark (Ercmophila cornuta); notes which 
for compass and silvery sweetness of tone ai-o inimitable 



94 



oVKi: rriK plains anh <>s thk moitntaixs. 



jind uiia|)))n);i''li;il)lo hy any other s()ii<;stcr. ^'hcre }io Hat 
(in the il-nci' hall'wuv down tho sh)])0, and ai;"ain and again 
he Avould poiw out his .silveiy, ringing nc^tcs on tlio morn- 
ing air, lliat almost awoke the sU^eping o<'hoes of fh*^ 
mountains. As we Avalked on, he wouhl fly alicad and 
take Ids ]>ositio!i on llu' leiice,aiid pour out his matin song 
as if in triumph. When ^\ e i-eturned he lollowed uh, and 




MOUTH OF JlOUI-DKi; ( SNVos 

rcjieated n\oi-o and more i-ajiidly ids charndng song, 
scciuingly striving to excel his jirsi ettorts. At last his 
notes seemed ndngled with tlie sadness ot'despair, heeoni- 
ing lomler, sweeter and tenderer, but touched, as it wore, 
with the anguish of a lieurtrending isorraw. At this mo- 
ment I f<pied hi-i mate dodging through tlie grass; and 



OVER THK PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. ^- 

now I understood his strange conduct, and the cause of 
his alarm and distress. 

Our host now appeared in sight calling us to breakfast^ 
fio wo hurried on, greatly to the relief of our feathered 
friend. May ho live a thousand years and raise a brood 
of songsters every month ! 

. After breakfast, returning to the hotel, \vc found car- 
riages, buggies, spring wagons, etc., collecting to convoy 
us, and baskets and trays filled with luxuries to add to 
our enjoyment, and minister to our comfort during the 
excursion up the canyon. When all was ready the train 
of some twenty Avagons and coaches moved off toward the 
mountain defile, up which lay our route, into the heart of 
tho Cordilleras. The mouth of the canyon, where it 
opens on the plain, is about one hundred feet wide, and 
the ascent of the canyon walls on either side exceeds but 
little fifty-five degrees. The acclivities arc sparsely cov- 
ered with stunted pine and cedar trees, growing on huge 
I'ocky angular terraces, that jut out all over the sides of 
the walls. On the top of the wall, amongst evergreens, 
occasionally stands a tall pine or spruce tree blasted by 
the lightning. The scenery is rugged and wild in every 
imaginable sense. Tho creek, a stream discharging fully 
three times tho quantity of water our Meramee river 
does;* flows rapidly i^row/zA not over its rocky bed, for 
thesharj) rocks project in every direction from one to four 
feet above the water. The water purls and frets, and 
foams as if in a rage at tho obstruction imposed by the 
rocky barriers, but otherwise it is dark, being prevented 
by its rapid flow and agitation from reflecting either tho 
canyon walls or tho narrow strip of blue sky above. Tho 
road and the stream mostly occupy tho full width of the 
canyon, but occasionally a large rock crowds tho stream 
into narrow limits and against tho opposite wall; then 
there is a little headland used for turnout'?, where ascend- 



*Meramec rivoi- in Missouri, 



S«> OVF.a THE rUVINS .VXD ON THK MOUNTAINS. 

ing and descending teams pans each othor. When not bo 
used, these headlands form a nestling plaeo for numerous 
mountain flowers. Amongst entirely new flora, I here 
found a splendid red lily, as large as a cup, (Ijillium Phila- 
delphicum.,) and the most showy of all tho mountain flow- 
ers, the EpUohixiM angxistifoluim, forming plots of brilliant 
rosy purple flowx^rs. 

As tho course of the canyon is zig-zag, it often narro'ws 
so as scarcely to afford i-oom for the waters to yxm; the 
roadway is then hlastcd out of the perpendicular side rock 
of the canyon wall. If this side rock (as is generally the 
case) is a projecting jtromontory of a inountain peak rent 
in twain, then there is left a fissured rock from one to two 
thou.sand feet high hanging overhead, that any moment 
may tumble down, or from its sides send down an aval- 
anche of rock into the abyss below. You instinctively 
hold your breath until it is past. Xow you como to a 
bridge, ( for there are thirty-one of them in twelve miles), 
leading to the narrow beach, eight or ten feet wide, on 
the opposite side, while the river dashes its foaming 
waters against the perpendicular clilf three thousand feet 
high, o)\ the side you are leaving. All you see of sky is 
now reduced to a narrow band overhead. You look up 
the sides of the canyon, and in crevices in the flank of tho 
walls, or on protruding rocks, grow shrubs of pine and 
spruce, while their summits are crowned with sturdy ever- 
greens, who for centuries have battled M'ilh the stornid 
and defied the artillery of heaven, not with impunity, 
however, as many a lightning scarred or dead one attests. 
High over all is seen, wheeling in his airy flight, tho gol- 
den eagle, who finds his congenial homo here 

"On tlu' mountains tliiit pi-oolniin 
Tho evorla-sting creed of liberty. " 

Miles are thus passed, the scenery becoming grander 
and more imposing at every step, and tho flowing of the 



OVER TIIK PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 



97 



Avatcr, Jiow all foiim, also more impetiious. Suddenly the 
ca«yon walls lor an instant recede, for man has invaded 
and profaned the sanctity of the place. There stands his 
puny, busy mill turning into plank, shingle and lath^ the 
hrave old giants of the mountain forest. On the right, 
too, there are indications of his presence ; for from the 
rocky chasm of a cleft mountain issue the turbid waters of 
Fom-Mile creek ; turbid because miners are washing the 
auriferous sands of the gulch in its limpid waves. 

But this interruption is only temporary. Coy Nature, 
that fled the contaminating presence of man, returns with 
more commanding presence and majestic mien than ever, 
to avenge the interruption by displaying sublimer forms 
and more imposing and awe-inspiring grandeur and wild- 
ness. The river roars and pitches more furiously than 
ever J there hangs the beetling cliif, higher and more 
-threatening than before ; and there, too, the graceful fir 
lifts high its head into the light of the sun, 250 feet above 
the roaring, foaming w^aters that rave at its roots. 

It seemed now as though Nature must have exhausted 
her stores of wonders to astonish, amaze bewilder and 
overwhelm, and drawn upon her last resources for exciting 
enthusiasm and exalted emotions ; but not so. The magic 
panorama moves on, and we enter a mountain defile, sun- 
dered by some great natural convulsion, of perpendicular 
walls, scraggy and naked, three thousand feet high, over- 
hung by pines and cedars. . It can easily be taken for a 
huge stair-case walled in, such as might have been built 
by Titans and Cyclops for ascending Olympus, the resi- 
dence of the gods; and that the jets and fountains in 
which nymphs and goddesses disported themselves, fiillen 
into decay, were pouring down their waters over the dilapi- 
dated steps; for the river here descends a steep, rocky 
declivity. The waters are no longer foam, but spray, and 
their roar is deafening. You look ahead M-hence they 
come, but the canyon is closed up by a transversal per- 
pendicular wall, with no sign of an outlet, forming appar- 



98 OVER THE PLAINS AND ON TUE MOUNTAINS. 

ently a complete cul de sac. Again and again is this re- 
peated. Tlio walls, when perpendicular and solid, arb 
always naked ; but when full of fissures and crevices, they 
are completely hid by evergreen shrubs, and decorated as 
evenly and as neatly as the ivy decks the dilapidated cas- 
tles of Europe. 

Turning the angle, the scene now changes. The accliv- 
ities of the walls, instead of perpendicular, arc but 75 or 
80 degrees, then the sides become a thicket of spruce sap- 
plings thirty or forty feet high, and completely hide the 
side rocks, forming a green wall as you look up the 
canyon. Immense spruce trees also stand in the bottom 
of the canyon, sometimes alone and then in groujjs. Thus 
at every turn, and in every instant of time the scenery 
changes and new and startling forms present themselves. 
You are now opposite the embouchure of the North Boul- 
der. You look up a dark deej5 rifl in the mountain side, 
overshadowed by trees and partly hid ; you see at the 
distance of ten rods a white sheet of water ])itched west- 
ward across the chasm. This is the rebound of the falls 
of the North Boulder from a shelving rock. We will visit 
them on our return. 

Up, up we go (for the acclivity up which our road 
leads, or rather the declivity down which the river flows, 
ascends for twenty miles at the average rate of 210 feet 
per mile, but hero it is 469 feet per mile). The chasm 
now for a short distance becomes heavily timbered with 
fir and pine, and its sides very rugged, then intermits and 
becomes narrower and bolder. Huge rocks obstruct the^ 
passage of the water. It pitches over some and forms a 
series of cascades, others deflect it and dash it against the 
perpendicular wall of the ciinj^on, whence it rebounds. 
Closer and closer the canyon contracts, and higher and 
steeper arise its walls. A dense grove of spruce trees, 
narrow and .tapering as church steeples, and two hundred 
and fifty feet high, crowded each other so closely as to fill 
■up the entire chasm between the walls-, completely shut- 



OVER THE PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 



99 



ting out the light, and shrouding everything with twilight 
gloom at noonday. The imposing grandeur of the appear- 
ance now may bo fairly conceived, but not realized, when 
to this solemn, almost dismal scenery, is added the milk- 
white waters of the river rushing down the rocky decliv- 
ity, dashed hither and thither by the obstructions, i*oaring 
and casting their spray in your face. 




KAULE CLIFF, BOULDEll CANYON. 

Anon, the scene changes. Light breaks in ;ind dis- 
perses the gloom; and the canyon is clear again of trees, 
excepting the long, tapering spruce sapplings that run up 
and seem to lay against its walls. But look ! twenty rods 
ahead a perpendicular mountain, three thousand feet high, 
is thrown across the canyon at right angles, and there 
Beems no possible outlet from it. Rut soon a break is 



100 OVER THE PL^VINS AND OX THE MOUNTAINS. 

Roon to unfold itscii' lowurtl.s the left; and on turning the 
angle, the canyon walls, instead of continuous rock, are 
composed of dissevered mountains, crowded against each 
other, varying from 1,500 to 3,000 feet, sometimes expos- 
ing largo, craggy, naked rocks, and at other times clothed 
with evergreens to their summits. To the left is what ap- 
pears as the half of a huge red granite mountain, verti- 
cally cleft from top to bottom, whose perpendicular wall 
rises full}" 2,000 feet high. About six hundred feet from 
its top is seen a small speck which we are assured is an 
eagle's nest in a cavity. Mr. Fitch, from Boston, who ac- 
companied us from Denver, had with him a field glass, 
which was bi'ought into requisition, and lo ! sure enough, 
there is the eagle upon the nest. 

But on we go silent, abstract and thoughtful, now en- 
tranced l)y an overhanging crag, then startled by a beet- 
ling clift", and sj^ell-bound by the stupendous vastness, in- 
imitable grandeur and awful sublimity of Nature's works 
around us. Suddenly our revery is broken by a commo- 
tion in the advance. The men rise to their feet and swing 
their hats, and the ladies are weaving their handkerchiefs j 
there is shoiiting, but it is drowned b}^ the roar of the 
waters. To make us understand what was the matter, 
fingei's are pointed to a culminating cliff to the right. 
Turning our eyes in the direction indicated, upon a prom- 
inent rock, and under a pine leaning over the precipice, 
stood a bighorn, or Ilocky Mountain sheep ( Ovis Mon- 
tana ) against the blue sky, and fully 1,500 feet above our 
heads. It was a large buck, and he gave us side views, 
both by turning his head to look at our advance, and rear. 
We found the attemjit vain to make noise enough to fright- 
en him from his commanding position. 

Final)}- we reached the objective point, as far as the 
party was concerned, this was Castle Piock. Here our 
picnic was to take place in an alcove in the rock. This 
recess is some forty feet wide and sixteen to eighteen 
feet deep. Cloths were spread on the sandy floor, bas- 



OVER THE PLAINS AND OX THE MOUNTAINS. 



101 



kets and trays were unpacked. There was boiled ham 
and buffalo tongues, roasted chickens and turkeys, togeth- 
er with any amount of cakes, pies, custards and tarts, and 
all washed down wuth lemonade made from the icy 
waters (for the snows are but three miles distant) of the 
Boulder, which sAveeps by within twenty feet of our re- 
treat. 




CASTLE ROCK. 

But what of Castle Rock? Why^ of this it is enough 
when it is said that it is an object worthy a trip across 
the continent to see it. It stands right across the direc- 
tion of the Boulder coming down from the snowy moun- 
tains. "When within fifteen feet of its base, the stream de- 
flects southeastwardly, until it strikes the soutli wall, 



102 OVKIl Tin: PLAINS AND ON THK MOf-NTArVS. 

wliicli it follows until it mecMs a pcrpeiulicuiiir rock 1,800 
feet higli, standing; at right angles to the south wall. li 
is then deflected back to the northwest striking the north- 
eastern base of Castle Rock. Kere tlio bridge crosses 
from the op])08ite side, and the road winds around the 
base of this wonderful rock. On the northwest side is a 
gap, through which, at a former period perhaps, the Boul- 
der flowed. It is, p<!rliaps, a hundred feet wide, reaches to 
within one hundred and flfiy feet of the base, and sepa- 
rates Castle liock from the north wall of the canyon. This 
wall is here hardly more than 1,200 feet high, while the 
southern one is f illy 1,500. This latter is nearly perpen- 
dicular, but the evergreens with which it is covered from 
top to bottom, make it look as smooth and i-egular us 
though it had l)een triinmeil with shears. The perpendic- 
ular rock that meets it at right angles, is red granite, and 
entirely bare. 

The area of tlie base of Castle Rock is less than half an 
acre, but its altitude is over 800 feet. The Court House 
in St. Louis, from the p.ivement to the ball on top of the 
dome, is 19(5 feet. The imposing appearance of Castle 
Rock can, therefore, bo imagined. Standing on a base 
not 150 foet square, yet rising to the enormous altitude of 
more than four times the distance from the pavement to 
the l)rass ball on the St. Louis Court House. Its distiinco 
from Boulder City is thirteen miles. 

The engraving irom a ])hoto,graph taken at a point up 
the canyon, gives a good idea of the a]i[iearance of this 
singular rock. It is, howevei", only a view of ilie upper 
]>art of it, comniencing say HUO A-et above the liasc 

But we must here terminate our vain and futile attempt 
to describ(^ Boulder Canyon — an object that is absolutely 
indescribable. No language can do justice to its awful, 
sublime and grand scerterv. Here is immense variety and 
stu])endous vastness combined with all the elements of the 
grand, the beautiful and the sublime, which no mortal pen 
can describe or pencil delineate; yet the whole presented 



OVER TFIE PLAINS AND ON THE MOUxNTAINS. 103 

with such rugged and austere, yet lovely simplicity, that 
it strikes every beholder with awe, delight and amazement. 
Wo have read of Alpine scenery, and of the Yosemite Val- 
ley, and we have both read of and seen Niagara Falls, 
Delaware Gap and the passage of the Potomac through 
Blue Ilidge ; and we pronounce Niagara Falls, Delaware 
Gap and the passage of the Potomac as tamo and common 
place, when compared with the scenery of this fearful and 
wonderful canyon ; and unless writers on Alpine scenery 
and of the Yosemite Valley lack command of the resources 
of our language, they, too, will suffer by the comparison. 
We, therefore, assert confidently, that for majestic presence 
to excite powerful emotions of veneration and awe ; for 
wild, stern, and f-itartling ruggedness to im])rcss fear, and 
for sublimity and grandeur to fill the soul with inspiration 
and enthusiasm, Boulder Canyon stands without a peer or 
even a rival in the world. 

I will only relate one of the many incidents that show 
its magic etTect upon visitors, thougli many might bo 
related that occurred to our own party. Soon after 
entering the ciinyon, my attention became completely 
absorbed and spellbound by the immensit}', sublimity and 
wildness of tho scene that was unfolding to view. Tho 
ladies occupying the opo:i barouche with mo thought I 
was listless, and was missing it all. Ilcnco there was a 
continual call on n\3 of, Olillook hero! O, there, etc., 
which I must confess annoyed mo not a little. But tho 
grandeur soon became S) sublime and overwhelmingly 
powerful that they were filled with unutterable emotions 
and awed into silence. Abstract and staring wildly at tho 
magic scenery, grander and vaster, that was constantly 
xmfolding itself, they w^ero incapable of any effort except 
to wave the hand slowly in tho dii'ection of the object oa 
which their eyes were fixed spellbound. 

Here w'e took leave of all our Kansas friends, who 
j-eturned home, while the Missourians pushed on to th4 



104 (iVKIl THE PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 

mines uikI snow ticl Js, higher up iind deeper in tlio rceossos 
of tlie mountains. * 



* Sinoe this was written I have received the levelling^ of the railroad 
survey made up the canyon during the summer which is as follows : 

IstmilefromBoulder City, 184 feet; 2ndmile, 126.1; Srdmile, 98.8; 
4th mile, 175.8; 5th mile, 128.3; 6th mile, 180.9; 7th mile, 205.1; 8th 
mile/to Falls ofN. Boulder. 331.8; 9th mile, 469.4: 10th mile. 183; 11th 
mile, 95.5 ; 12th mile, 129.G; 13th mile to Castle Rock, 150.21. 



OVER THE PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS, 105> 



CHAPTEE IX. 

As already stated, we took leave of our kind Boulder 
for the jireseut, and of our Kansas friends, perhaps forever^ 
at ^astle Kock. The latter expressed themselves satisfied,, 
yea, more than satisfied at having seen what it falls to the 
lot of but few, the most varied, picturesque, grandest, most 
imposing and sublimest work of N'ature, and of having 
experienced such sensations and emotions as only such a 
work can excite and inspire. If the Italians can say, " See 
J^'aples and then die," they felt that with emotions of a. 
higher oi'der, they could say, "See Boulder canyon and 
Castle Eock and then die, for the world holds nothing be- 
sides that combines so much of every eleinent of beauty, 
grandeur and sublimity as they." 

Wo Missoui'ians hired conveyances to take us up to the 
top of Caribou mountain, to inspect the silver mines there. 
Our party was now reduced to Judge Moore, of Franklin 
county; B. Smith and wife, of Crawford county, and 
myself and wife, from St. Louis. , 

It was about four o'clock when we started, and the dis- 
tance about seven miles to Cai'ibou. The canyon sooa 
widens, and instead of bare perpendicular rocky walls, the 
stream is flanked on both sides b}' mountain ranges, some- 
times running parallel with the banks of the stream, but 
generally the ridges or " hog backs " abut on the streaia 
at right angles to its course, and have the general trend 
north and south, of the Cordilleras at this point. They 
are heavily timbered Avith pine and fir, and rise but to a 
modei-ate height, say from 700 to 1000 feet above the 
valley. Occasionally a high cone is seen in the distance 
protruding from one to two thousand feet above the sur- 



100 OVKU TIIK I'L-VINS AND ON TRK MOUNTAINS. 

rounding peaks. Were it not for these sporadic cones, the 
scenery otherwise would remind one of the wildest portion 
of the Alleghanies, except that the "hogbacks" (a very 
expressive and descriptive term) never have a length of 
more than five or six times their width. The canyon now 
has become a valley, with from five to forty rods of arable 
land on one or the other side of the stream, and the moun- 
tains measureably give way to high hills covered with 
evergreens and buffalo grass. 

Signs of beaver now appear. Hero on bot.li sides of the 
road stand the stumps of trees, six to ten inches thick, 
gnawed off last fall to build their winter dam, which is 
here close by, as you see, cut through recently by the ac- 
cumulated waters of the melted snows of the i)resent sea- 
son. Yonder they had 

"Reared their littlo Venice; " 

lodges from 10 to 18 feet in diameter and from G to 8 feet 
high, resembling huge mud ovens. Their interior is said 
to be about seven foct \i\ diameter and from two to threo 
feet high. Their beds, separated from each other, are 
made of grass or fibers of bark, and are placed around 
the walls of lodges, leaving the space in the center unoc- 
cupied. That deep ditch around the lodges is the moat 
made so deep that water never freezes, giving egress and 
ingress to the lodges. In it also they lay up a store of 
wood, the bark of which serves them for food in winter, 
while the wood after the b^rk is gnawed off is used for 
repairing their dams when needed. The lodges are cov- 
ered with boughs of evergreens woven and matted together, 
lined and wt>ll stuffed with moss and grass, and the whole 
covered with mud. It is said that even amongst the beav- 
ers there are lazy fellows who will not work, refusing to 
assist in building lodges or dams or to cut wood and peel 
bark for winter provender. The industrious ones beat 
these idle fellows and drive them away ; sometimes even 



OVER THE PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 107 

disgracing them by lopping off a part of thoii- tails. Those 
^' Paresseux" as the French trappers call them, that is, 
" lazy fellows," are more easily caught in traps than the 
others, because, I suppose, being more in want, they aro 
more reckless. 

New floi"a also appears. The Thermopsis montana with 
its large raceme of papilionaeious yellow flowers, dwarf 
Dodecatheon, with intense purple blooms ; the delicate Iris 
tenax, and the Polygonum bistorta, with its white; oblong 
head, aro abundant on the grassy glade, or along tlie banka 
of spring branches flowing from the mountain sides. Birds 
were quite numerous. Amongst old acquaintances I no- 
ticed the silent lark, the chipping and tree sparrow, the 
robin, rod-headed woodpecker, common dove, some war- 
blers and fly catchers. The following are the principal 
ones amongst the new species: the mountain song-spar- 
row, green-tailed and Lincoln's finch, two kinds of grouse 
(the gray-mountain and dusky) , the long-crested and 
Woodhouse's jay, both much larger and handsoincr than 
our blue jay, the Ilocky Mountain magpie, etc. 

The tirst dwelling is that of Abel Goss, a young couplo 
from Xew Hampshire, who have here a pleasant mountain 
ranche ; and a few miles beyond is Brown's, now called 
Middle Boulder, where a lai'ge nev/ tavern is nearly fin- 
ished. Here we met Col. B. O. Cuttei-, superintendent of tho 
Caribou ^fining Company, who is here engaged in erecting 
smelting works to cost about $150,000 for the com- 
pany. Ilei-e there is a cross road leading from Central 
City to the Ward mining district, north, jiear the base of 
Long's Peak. The Colonel gave us a letter of introduc- 
tion to Mr, Mai'tin, who supei-intends the mining opera- 
tions at the lode,irequesting him to give us every facility 
for inspecting the mines, and that he himself would bo up 
in fhe morning if lie could leave. 

The valley now spreads out to a considerable disUmco 
and the bottom land would be as level as an Illinois prai- 
rie, were it not for the ridgos of the old beaver dams that 



108 OVER THE PLAINS AND OS THE MOC.VTATNS. 

every lifteen or twenty feet lie across it from one moun- 
tain flank to the other and the ohl bcavc-r lodges. These 
ridges arc made of trees and sap])lings cut down and. 
dragged into place by these animals, the upper limbs all 
cut otf and woven in below, and then the whole filled in 
with small stones, bark and moss, and covered with earth. 
It is only where the Avater has broken tnrough them that 
you Oiin sec their structure. They are even yet from two 
to five feet high, and four to eight feet wide. Tiieir 
length varies with the widtli of the valley, but some of 
them are fully two hundred yards long. 

As we were leaving the valley to ascend the Caribou 
Mountains to our left at the head of the glade and south of 
the Boulder, we saw a high rugged mountain, some half a 
mile distant, whose side was covered with a field of snow of 
considerable size. The mountains on the north also 
crowd in on the creek above, and as the sun had descend- 
ed behind their ])eaks, the dark green of the pine and firs 
that cover their sides gave the scenery a sad and gloom}' 
appearance. Above and over head, coming in from Long's 
Peak, on the north now also appears a narrow storm 
cloud, from which at intervals dart foi'ked lightning, and 
the roar of the thunder with its reverberating echoes from 
peak to peak is as grand as it is terrific. I gazed up at the 
low cloud with wonder and amazement. Instead of a hazy, 
ill-define<l outline and enveloped in fog, it looked so pure 
and crystalline that I could not help imagining it carved 
out of solid ice, so distinctly were all the outlines of its 
involutions and convolutions marked, and then it was 
almost rendered transparent by the sunlight. I observed 
this same appearance on other occasions while in the 
mountains. It is only in case of terrific storms that any- 
thing at all resembling it can be seen "in the States." 
With this difference, however, that the cloud is dark and 
gloomy, instead of crystalline and almost transparent as 
here. 

The road is very steej) fnjm where it leaves the valley 



OVER THK PLAINS AND OX THE MOUNTAINS. 10^^ 

■of the Boulder to Caribou City, rising at the average grade 
of five hundred and fifty feet to the mile. It slopes up 
Avcstwurdly along the south side of a mountain whose de- 
clivit}' is impracticable for anything except a Bighorn. 
Yet BO dense is the spruce forest on the side that for some 
hundred feet below the road the forest has been felled to 
let in the sun to melt the winter snow from the road in 
the Spring. A few days before we passed there, a fire had 
swept up the mountain side amongst these felled trees 
leaving nothing but their blackened trunks, and doing 
immense damage to the beautiful forest. Soon Cardinal 
City is reached, a hamlet of some dozen of houses, mostly 
built since the fire of the blackened trunks of trees, and 
some of them covered with nothing but spruce branches. 
Here are two very rich and promising lodes ; the Trojan 
and the Boidder county lode. The former averages $160 
per ton, about equally divided between silver and gold, 
sometimes one predominating, sometimes the other. It 
is not yet fully developed being only one hundred feet 
deep. Boulder county lode is owned by Colonel Cutter 
and Mr. Conger. Shaft twenty-five feet deep, its ores aa'e 
zinc-blend and argentiferous galena. More specimens of 
native silver have been taken from this mine than any in 
the district. Some eight or ten other lodes in the vicinity, 
we were told by Mr. Adolj^hus Livernash, an assayer who 
has his log cabin here, assay from 132 to 2-A3 ounces of 
silver per ton. They are mostly argentiferous galena. 

After leaving Cardinal, we ascend another mountain 
spur which lies to our right, while to our left lies a moun- 
tain gorge perhaps 1000 feet deep, be^^ond which rises an 
extremely steep mountain. The gorge and mountain are 
<'overed with a dense forest of spruce trees, in which a fire 
is raging, the flame often rising high above their tops. 
Near the western terminus of this mountain is a snowfield 
reaching from the top to its base. We had now ascended 
to sunlight again, for through a gap between two bald 
heads in the Snowy Range, »bout four miles distant, the 



110 



ovt:ii the plains and on the mountains. 



Bun poured a flood of Golden light. The spent storm- 
cloud now showered down a few largo drops. I looked up, 
and from the nearness of the cloud could see the drops 
from the time they left the cloud. They looked like 
a shower of ])earls, ruhy, opal and amethyst; but when 
they hit, made one wince by their icy touch. 





CARIUOU. 

The mountain spur we are ascending now deflects north; 
and west beyond the narrow valley lies a hog-back, heav- 
ily covered with spruce, whose culminating point is at the 
head of the valley, northwest. This hog-back is Cai-ibou 
mountain. Against this culminating point, and in the 
head of this valley lies Caribou City, of some 250 houses. 
The town has been built since spring set in. The houses 
are frame, many two stones high, made of spi-uco and pine 



OVER THE PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. Ill 

plank sawed by the mountain mills. Not a brush of paint 
had been applied to any of them when wo were there. 
There are two streets well built up running longtitudinally 
with the direction of the valley. Above the town from un- 
der a bluff issues a fine mountain spring, in which is a spout, 
and from which the greater part of the citizens obtain 
water. In the accompanying engraving the log house in 
the foreground is just below the spring. The view is down 
the valley and taken from the road leading to the Caribou 
lode on top of the mountain. 

We put up at the Planters' House, kejit by Capt. W. O. 
Logue, a former steamboat engineer, a captain in the 
Union arm}', and long in the employ of the McCord 
Brothers, of »St. Louis, As soon as Ave had stowed away 
our luggage, all of us belonging to the masculine gender, 
started north over the mountain, to the nearest snowbank. 
As an evidence of the rejuvenating effect of the mountain 
air and climate uj)on the human system, I will state that 
though we were all on the shady side of sixty, yet we in- 
dulged, boy-like, in a real hearty snow balling. 

We went over the mountain ridge in a northeastern di- 
rection, but the culminating point on which is the Caribou 
lode, is northwest, and about a third of a mile distant 
from town. W^here we crossed we found the whole top of 
the mountain perforated with shafts and prospecting pits. 
All the shafts sunk last fall were filled with the drifting 
snows of the winter ; some were yet even full of snow, 
and undisturbed. At others the miners were engaged in 
cleaning out the snow, and in others this had been done 
and the work of mining was progressing. Within a circle 
one-half mile from town there are no less than seventy 
Todes ; fifty-six pay well, and all would pay if there were 
means for reducing the ores. But the nearest reduction 
works are at Black Hawk, twenty miles distant. They 
are owned by Prof. Hill, who buys ores at his own i)rice. 
He also buys only the bett<>r grade, because the supply is 
abundant. 



112 OVER TUE PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 

For this reason tlio lower grades are neglected and 
many mines fail of being developed because the miners 
cannot dispose of the ores. I have heard it stated no ores 
■will pay that do not yield eight^^ ounces of silver ])eT ton, 
because the mill men will charge some thirty-five dollars 
for reducing them, to which is to be added at least ten 
dollars for hauling, making altogether fort^'-live dollars, 
which leaves thirtj'-five dollars to the miner. Two men 
working together in sinking on a pay-streak, will raise on 
an average two tons of ore per week, making their wages 
thirty -live dollars per week, from which, however, must 
be deducted the wear of tools and powder for blasting. 
The average cost of mining jier ton, with proper facilities, 
where the lodes are fully developed, including wages, etc., 
is about S5 15, and when ojjerations are carried on on a 
large scale, 30 per cent. less. Colonel Cutter thinks the 
actual cost of reducing a ton of ore, ought not to exceed 
$7 60 ])er ton. At present the mines can be made to j3ro- 
dnco five times the quantity that can be reduced at the re- 
duction works when completed. 

The reduction works already spoken of as in process of 
erection at Middle Boulder, two and a half miles below, 
will not afford any relief to the Caribou mines, since tlic 
Caribou and other lodes owned by the company that ie 
erecting the woi-ks, wull alone supply all the ore it can 
work. There are more than ninety lodes open in Boul- 
der county, but there is not a single mill nor reduction 
work in it, while in Gilpin county there are twenty-six, 
and in Clear Creek county some twenty mills and reduc- 
tion works in operation. The result is tliat mines are 
well develoised there, and ores reduced of such low grade 
as only yield from §20 to 824 per ton. The reason tliere 
are no facilities at Caribou for reducing the ore, is because 
all the lodes have been discovered within the past year, 
except the Caribou, w^hich was discovered in Se])tcmber, 
1869. 

The ('aribou mines alone can furnish ore enou£rh to nm 



OVKii THK PLAINS AND 0\ THK MOUiSTAINM. 11-3 

a dozen stamp mills; and hero is a fine opening for an im- 
mense fortune, by erecting a first-class smelting furnace at 
Boulder, where the best quality of coal in the Territory 
exists in unlimited quantities. 

Prof Hill, of Brown University, K. I., went to Black 
Hawk a comparatively poor man, some three or four 
years ago, and invested some S8,000 in a smelting furnace. 
He is now a millionaire. He reduces the ores to what in 
called "matte, "which is packed up and sent to Swansea, 
in Wales, where the precious metals are separated from 
the base. Prof. Hill receiving all the gold and silver, and 
the English company retaining the copper and lead ob- 
tained from the "matte " for their pay. 

Our evening ramble took us around the Caribou moun- 
tain westward, and then over its top back to town. In 
this ramble I performed the feat of gathering snow with 
one hand and plucking flowers with the other, which 1 
had often heard could be done, but about which I was 
somewhat incredulousi. The flower, which I preserve in 
my herbarium as a momento of the fact, is that of the 
Vaccinnium myrtilhis, a species of blueberry. We found 
the northwest side of the mountain to be the wall of North 
Boulder canyon. We could hear the roaring of the 
waters about a thousand feet below us, but could not 
see it, the view being obstructed by the dense grove 
of spruce that line the declivity. 

The north wall of the canyon is the southeastern side of 
a peak of the Snowy Eange. The trend of the peak is a 
little west of north, and on its eastern side lays an im- 
mense snow field, reaching to the summit. This is caused 
by the west winds drifting the snows, as they fall, to the 
leeside of the mountain. Up to the bight of the Caribou 
mountain, this wall was densely covered by dwarf 
spruce and pine, some even standing within the margin of 
the snow field. Above the " timber line " and on the west 
side, the peak was bare; and being covered with the vel- 
vety buffalo gi'ass, it looked like an ordinary, smoothly 



114 OVER THE PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 

rounded, j^irassy but ntecp liill. No rocks can be seen 
protrudin<< irom it8 sides above the timl>er line. 

its apparent distance from us seemed not to e.vceed a 
stone's throw, but we were assured in a direct line it was 
more than a mile; and to get to the point oppositr some 
three miles had to be traversed. J3ein<;- now tolerably 
posted as to the deceptive appearances of distance in thi« 
region, yet while we were looking at it, and lollowing 
with the eye the margin of the snow line t-oward the sum- 
mit, some one jestingly ])roposed to ascend it. J replied,^ 
"Xo, we will leave it for to-morrow, and do it up before 
breakfast." At this a miner, hid in the s})ruce thicket, 
and whom we had not noticed before, voluntoei'cd the 
kind advice : " Yo\i had better take your 1)reakfast HrsT, 
and your dinner along, ibr you'll have a late supjiei-. " 

This incident riH-alls another. While stan<ling on the 
summit of (Caribou mountain, I said to .Judge Moore, 
"Judge, have you oltserved with how much ease and iree- 
dom you can talk here, and how sonorous and ringing the 
voice is?" Xo sooner were the words out, than Mr. 
Smith, who was fully one hundred yards distant, rejilied,. 
''I expect that is the reason you talk so much nonsense 
here." The explanation is very simple. In the caissons 
of the 8t. Louis bridge, those persons who Avent down in 
tjbem remember the ditfi<nilty there was in si>caking, or 
making yourself heard. There the air was compressed 
and consequently the effect was the reverse of the effect 
here, where the air is expanded by the altitu<le. The bar- 
ometer here stood 19:52, showing that the atmosphere had 
only about two-thirds of the density as on the sea shore, 
or in other words, that the mountain was over two miles 
high. Its hight, as received here, is 11,300 feet. 

On the following morning the barometer stood 19 52 
inches — the boiling point of water was 191.8 degrees. 
Following the usual fonnula for deducing altitude from 
these data, the hight of the mountain would be 11,280 feet. 
it must, however, be stated that at the time the electric 



OVER THE PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS, 115 

-tension of tlie mounteii) was great, as wan evinced by the 
biiBhy appearance of the tails of the horses, and also by 
the hair of our heads having a tendency to stand out 
straight. This electric condition was followed by a moun- 
tain storm in the afternoon. Probably an allowance of 
one inch in barometric pressui-e should be made Jbr this 
electric condition at the time; still, it would leave the 
mountain over 10,000 feet high. 

Apropos, this rarity of the atmosphere makes itself felt 
in the breathing of all animals. We ha'd to give the 
horses, on ascending the mountain, their own time, for if 
urged they soon commenced panting for breath, and had 
to stop. The miners here walk slowly, and never feel 
any inconvenience; but "greenliorns, " like ourselves, in 
trying to rush up the mountain, soon find their "\vind" 
failing, I felt no inconvenience, until walking rapidly up 
a steep terrace, only some six or eight paces, and then 
found I had either to sit down or fall down. A miner 
gave me this direction : "Whenever you find 3-our breath 
failing, stop and turn your back to the mountain. Two 
or three breathings, and you are all right again." 1 
found, in following it, invariably an almost instant relief. 
When we reached the tavern, a little after dusk, I found 
Mrs. Y. sitting by the stove and fanning, complaining she 
could get no breatli. The landlady assured her it would 
be all right by morning. It is said that the few who are 
fhus affected by the rarity of the air, find themselves en- 
tirely relieved of the difficulty after a stay of a few houit*. 



116 OVKB THK rUAI.VS AND OM TUlfi MOVNTAUNii. 



CHAPTER X. 

As wo were to return to Boulder by evening, we re- 
solved to utilize the earliest beiims of light in pui-suing 
our investigations of the mines, their (character and 
method of working them. Accordingly we were up even 
before twilight had completely dispersed, and out on thf 
moifintain amongst the mines. At all the well developed 
mines the ores had been separated by an expert and class- 
ified, and all the first class taken away or locked up. 
"Where they had feeilities, the second class were also 
locked up in houses to prevent depredations. We found 
many excavations just commenced; these we examined 
critically, to ascertain by Avhat signs and appearances 
the miners were guided in their prospecting. "We 
had taken with us samples obtained at the mines of tht^ 
rock carrying the lowest grade ores; with these wo com- 
pared the surface rock at the newly opened prospecting 
pits, and came to the conclusion that signs of metaliferou-s 
veins were either very obscure, or that it required a culti- 
vated and experienced eye to recognize and detect them. 
Some of the new pits we found, were developing well de- 
fined metaliferous veins. At these we found small piles 
of rock showing the progress of development, from very 
faint signs to well-defined crj^stals. Compai-ing these 
with specimens of rock from the well-developed mine<j, 
we were satisfied that though surface indications to 
"greenhorns" were undistinguishable, yet the metal bear- 
ing rocks had well-marked chanicteristics to distinguish 
them from the non-mctaliferous. "We examined Bome 
thirty or forty paying lodes and any T\umher of prosj>cct- 
ing pits. 



OVER THE PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 117 

Aft<3r passini^ through the miniui;' ground, we wont 
around the peak westward, to take a k)ok at the snowy 
peak opposite, seen the evening before, now that it had its 
Knowy side bathed in sunlight. It was really a charming 
sight to see the white snow apparently ]«iled against an 
intensely blue sky. 

PuHhing on still t\irther, but southwestwardly, Me en- 
tered a dense j>ine and spruce forest, full of long-el'ested 
jaye. ( Cyamira jnaerolupha,} larger, and Inning jk> resem- 
blance in color to our blue Jay. 

From here Ave ascended to the top of the mountain to take 
a morning's view of the scenery. West at from a mile t« 
two miles distance lay the Snowy Eange, running a little 
west of south and east of north. The range separated us 
from Middle Park, only eight miles distant. But the only 
practical route thither is by Boulder Pass, some fifteen 
miles southwest. To the south and east \ixy what appeared 
a hilly tal)le land covered with a dense evergreen forest. 
At various distances a few isolated cones protruded above 
the suiTounding hills fi'om one to two thousand and per- 
haps more feet. A little north of east the peak of Sugar- 
loaf Mountain, simie nine miles distant, Avas a prominent 
object. T did nut leai-n the name of a very large, high 
cone some fifteen miles southeast. It had i-eally a 
raajeHtic appearance. In the northeast Avas another 
f*one, but at some distance, and apparently not as high as 
Sugarloaf, some seven or eight miles south of it. The 
iowTi of ('aribou laj' at our feet on the east side of our 
look-out in a scooped-out A-alley between tAvo mountains. 
We noAv Avent to Caribou Lode, entirely closed in and 
under cover, Avhich lay to our left on the northeastern 
point of the mountain. NorthAvest of the mine are the 
large stables of the mining company Avell stocked Avith 
provender, including corn. As Ave approached a large 
number of little A-ermin AA'ere seen running from the sta- 
ble Avhich I supposed to be rats. But seeing one dodge 
behind a large rock, I kept a lookout for him as T turned 



lis OVKR THK Pl.AIXS AND OX TlIK MOl'NTAINS. 

the cornor, mid tlirrc lie sat erect on a small rook, and 
handlint>; a n'l-aiii of corn ifi the most graceful style whilo 
eating it. Jle proved to be a chipmunk. ( Tamiaii rjuad- 
rivitatus), or the four-Htri[>ed ground squirrel, fully a.s 
beautiful but not so large as the chipmunk or ground 
squirrel (Tamias li/steri) of the Eastern States. The four- 
striped ground squirrel Avas discovered by Prof. Say, at- 
tached to Colonel Long's expedition to the Jiocky Moun- 
tains. Audobon gives its comparative size at five-sixthii 
that of the Eastern chipping sipiirrel, from which it dither,-* 
by having four strij)es instead of throe. 

Finding that I had am|)le time before biH'ukiiist would 
bo ready, I made a detour to the left, and coming in front 
of what T had taken to be a pile of spruce boughs, I found 
it to b<' a miner's lodge, made of a few poles laid over the 
gaj) belwccn two large rocks and covercil with the fan- 
shape<l boughs of the .46/r.s Engletnannii . His bed con- 
sisted of a buffalo robe and some gray army blankets, 
lie was jusi I'ising, and from his (tordial "good morning" 
I knew ]>e was a " \vhole-s(Md«!d fellow%" and therefore 
Htopj)ed to lia\e a talk. IFe soon had a hot fare to get liis 
breakfasi. He put on his cofHee pot, and from a ])0ucli 
drew soni'- ^-round cof^'e<'. Slicing bis bai-on, he ]>ut a 
sharit stick thi'ougli it, held it in llu' flame, and when 
ri"ht hot woidd ])Our cold water on it to 'Mresheu it," as 
he said. He gave nn' a history of his wan<lerings for the 
last twentv years, when he lefl P(Mnis\lvauia for the 
mines in California. Had made a. half dozen of fortunes 
and lost th(;m all, but had now ample m«>ans laid up for 
old age. whenever it might undertake hini. I asked him 
why he did not take tiie woi-ld easy and enjoy life )iowi' 
"I do." he replied; "T think there is no enjoyment likt; 
the wiUI, free, dare-devil life of the miner on these moun- 
tains. •• Here." lie<<.ritinued,"AS'e have no (-lasses nor ranks 
in society, 'jut rvery true and honest man we meet is at 
once and forever a friend and !)rother." F asked him how 
long he had been here. '• About three wt^eks," ho repliod. 



OVER THE PLAINS AND ON THK MOUNTAINS. 11'') 

^' I had just foi," he contimiod, '< into Oenvcr from u very 
successful ])rospectin2: tour through New Mexico, when 

^Iy^ niet me and offered me ' grub ' and five doUax-s a 

day, and half interest in what T might find, to come here 
and prospect Caribou mountain over for him." I re- 
marked that I had made his employer's acquaintance in 
Denver, and that he bore the reputaion of being '' very 
sharp." " That's so," said he " and 1 got things so fixed 
before 1 left that convinced him I was sharp too, 
and knew my man." " Well, my friend," said T, "ever 
since daylight 1 have been tram]»ing over this mountain 
and trying to tind out what signs governed the prospec- 
tors here in their search for mineral, and have tailed. 
Can you tell me?" "'Well," said he, "in my twenty 
years' experience I have not seen a phxce where prospec- 
tors haw to work so much ir» the dark. We l»ave almost 
to go it blind here, for the surface indications are so indis- 
tinct. Our experience tells us in what rocks we need not 
look for minerals, and also what rocks may have them, 
but here there arc often 7io suri^xce indications whether 
they carry mineral or not; yet this is the richest silver 
region in these mountains." 

I here rose and left, with the cordial invitation extended 
to me to come and see his prospect after breakfast, which 
I accepted, but had no time to keep my promise. After 
breakfast the whole party, accompanied by the landlady 
and several other ladies, Avalked up to the Caribou lode. 
Here we met Mr. Martin, one of the original discoverers 
of the lode, Avho had sold the west half to Mr. Breed, of 
Cincinnati, for S50,000, still retaining his interest in the 
eastern half, and superintending the mining operations. 
He received us cordially and showed us all over the works, 
their arrangement and operation, the separation and class- 
ification of the ores, and liberally furnished us with rich 
specimens. The ladies then left for a ramble to the snow 
banks on the north side of the mountain, while the men 
.descended the shaft, then 180 feet deep. The shaft, follow- 



120 OVER THK I'l^INS AND ON THK MOUNTArNS. 

ing the lode vein, is Hometimt'S perpendicular, then slopa'* 
ut an angle of about 80 degs. ea.st, which is the general dip 
the strata liere of all the lodes, and the vein runs north- 
west and southeast. In Clear Creek, (lilpin and other 
(bounties south, the veins run northeast and southwest^ 
The descent is by ladders, and the place Avas damp ironi 
the dripping water of the side rock above, and gloomy, 
notwithstsvnding the star candles we held. It jtossesscd 
no particular interest nor attraction, and Avt* were glad 
when we returned to daylight. 

The Caribou is the great silver mine of the luuuntains^ 
The Colorado Gazetteer says : "It is not only one of the 
most valuable silver mines in Colorado, but amongst the 
richest ever discovered in America." Prof. Hill bought a 
ton of choice ore for which he paid glojOOO. It assayed. 
$16,498,95. About one liundred tons of ore were taken 
out per month wlien we Avere there, but it was networked 
t-o its lull capa(;ity. Besides the company are now mainly 
engaged in extending levels east and west so that when 
their smelting works go in operation they can keep them 
running from this mine alone, if ner-essary. The assays 
show the following results: 

Vv.K Ton. 

Prst class oiv $1,054 

iSeoond class ore 634 

Tbird cla.s; ore 145 

The ladies soon returned :iccom])unied by quite a num- 
ber of miners, and loaded with specimens given them.. 
We now left, following the lead of the miners to a small 
black swell on the mountain consisting entirely of black, 
magnetic iron, which the miners said " the clouds kissed 
every time they passed." We found the ore strongly 
magnetic, often suspending a string of watch keys. The 
miners proposed to find me a real good one, and at last suc- 
ceeded in finding one weighing about three pounds that- 
Huppended a chain of no less than six watch koyA. In- 



OVER THE PLAINS AND ON THK MOUKTAINK. 121 

staxilly I 6aw a hammer descending on it, shivering it into 
half a dozen iragments. "Oh!" I exchximcd, "you have 
spoilt it now." " O, no," said he that ntruclc it, ta- 
king up the largest fragment and ap})lying it to his 
key, but the key fell to the ground. "O," said another, 
" you did not get the uiagnctic part," while trying another 
fragment, but with the same result; and so on till every 
fragment Avas tried, but not one showed a trace of mag- 
netism left. This astonished them. One of them a-skecl. 
"What did you mean when you said you have spoiled 
it now ? and how did you know it was spoiled J"' " Why," 
said I, " it is a well known fact that no magnet can be 
struck without loosing its magnetism." They looked at 
each other as though tliey thought, "he is trying to poke 
fun at us; " but instantly the thought struck them of ver- 
ifying the assertion by experiment. Strong magnets were 
selected and struck with hammers, and then tried, but 
every trace of magnetism had disappeared. *• Well," ex- 
daimed a half dozen of voices at once, "that's a new 
wrinkle," 

As they saw 1 knew some things they went to the usual 
extreme of believing I kn«w all things; and as their curi- 
osity had been excited they demanded to know "what 
magnetism was, how it got there, and whether the struck 
tftones would again acquire their lost power ? " " Well," 1 
rejoined, " to answer your first question were to tell a 
long story of what it is imagined to be, because I don't 
know, nor does anybody truly know, what magnetism is; 
but you can find out the answers to your second and third 
questions for yourselves. Lay all the stones that you 
have 8tru<tk, and which you know are not magnetic noAv,. 
on a pile, and wait until after the lightning has struck 
here, or, as you say, " a passing cloud has given them a 
b-mack," and you will find them all right again. " Is that 
to?" said some of them. Try and see, said I, and if it is 
not so let me know it. They then piled up the stonee for 
trial^ and as I have not h^ard anj^hlng from them, 1 infer 



122 OVKn TUK PLAIN'S AN'D ON' THK MOirNTAIN'S. 

that ihf (■•xperimcnt li:is HUCceo(lo<i to their satisfaction. 

We now returned to the tavern, ainl at eleven o'clock 
started to return to Boulder. But it is due, before break- 
ing off this narration here, to hear unequivocal andunqal- 
ified testimony to the order and quietness of Caribou, and 
to the sobriety, intelligence and manly bearing of the min- 
ers, not only here but elsewher(\ Liquor of every form 
is for sale liere, hut there are no drunken broils, rioting, 
wantonness or ])rofanity. 

This is at variance with the common idea of the habits, 
customs and condition of society in mining villages, which 
are I'egarded as only a synonym for any amount of drunk- 
enness and rowdyism, because desperadoes, roughs and 
bullies are fond of congregating at such places. But I 
saw nothing of this kind here, nor in any of the mining 
villaji-es I visited in Colorado. 

We stopped long enough at Cardinal to examine the 
Trojan lode, one of the most ])romising new lodes in the 
Grand Island district, as the mining disti-ict enclosed by 
the North and Middle Boulder creeks is called. It re- 
ceives its name from a mountain fully one thousand feet 
high a few miles below ("^arihou, Ibrmijig an island in the 
North Boulder which ilows around it on all sides. This 
moantain is called the Grand Island, which has been trans- 
ferred to the adjacent mining district. The Caribou and 
Pugh mountains and other metal iferous cones are in this 
district. Silver and lead are the ])redominating metals in 
the district, the mines being -what is called argentiferous 
falenas, thouirh silver in some localities is found combined 
with copper. Gold has not yet been found to any great 
extent, though just south of the Middle Boidder, and a 
short distivnce southeast of Middle Boulder Post-offioe, rich 
lodes have been <liscovered. It is probable thai further 
explorations of the lower part of Grand Island distri('t 
will develop the existence of this metal in paying quan- 
tities, since it is surrounded by rich lodes, three of wliieh 
are located at diiFerent points on the south side, Gold Hill 



OVER THK ri,.VIN.S AND OX TlIK MOUNTAINS. 123 

on the east, ;ui<l t!ic Wurd mines on the nortli. Besides, 
on Four Mile creek, which has a course paraUei to the 
Xorth IJoulder, north and east of the latter, gulch mining 
is carried on, paying daily from $8 to ^15 per hand. 
Some miners were at work on a ])Iacer on Beaver creek, 
a branch of Middle Boulder, just soutli of the mountain 
on which the road ascends to Caribou ; they quit because 
the water gave out. 

The 'J'rojnn lode yields on an average of ^IGO to 8240 
l)er ton, half gold and half silver, sometimes the gold 
predominating and then the silver. The vein increases in 
riches as great depths are reached. We did not go to the 
Boulder county lode, also located here. Prospecting is 
also going on vigorously and cpiite a number of paying 
lodes have been discovered liere. Between here and the 
village of Middle Boulder the fire was still raging as on 
the previous day in the tall spruce forest that lined the 
mountain acclivity on the fjirther side of the gorge to our 
right, the side we were descending having been completely 
swept by it several days ])efore. Its distance from us was 
less than a (piarter of a mile, and its crackling noise and 
roaring was lerritic, the flames leaping up in large sheets 
over the top of the forest. It was a sad sight to look at. 
Here were forc^sts destroyed and wasted, that for several 
generations would have furnished ample supplies of lum- 
ber for building purposes and for fuel for sm(dting the ores, 
and all for what? Merely to clear away the fallen leaves 
so as to expose the luiked rocks to the observation of the 
prospector. This wantonness has no parallel except the 
folly of killing the goose that laid the golden e^^ix. 

The penalty for firing the woods is severe^, and there 
Avere tifty-one indictments found against persons and pend- 
ing for the offence in Boulder county alone. It is to be 
hoped, if found guilty, that the full penalty of the law 
maybe meted out to them. On our descent we met a 
bui'ly mountaineer on a spirited horse going up to Caribou. 
Jlr. Smith recognized him as Major John Q. A. Eol!ins,an 



124 ftVF:a tiik i'Lain.s and o.v thk moi niaink. 

old Illinois acquaintjiru'o, luil whom lu' Itad not seen for 
laany years. ILtiiling liiiii, and a mutual recognition 
taking ])lace, the Major insisted that \vc hlioukl pay a visit 
to and tako dinner at his mounlain ranch*-, some two miles 
MDuth of lliddlc Boulder, olfering to accompany us back. 
This Ave gratefully declined, as we had in the morning 
sent down word to (loss's to liave dinner for our pai-ty at 
two o'clock. At Brown's, or Middle Boulder, as it is now 
called, Ave again met (.'olonel ('utter, another mountain 
specimen of physical develoyjment, robust in health, and 
manly vigor, lie is a Xew Yorker, an educated and i ntelli- 
gentman,and from his long residence in the mountains, an 
expert in mining affairs. lie considers this as one of tlie 
richest mining districts yet discovered, and that investments 
judiciously made and managed here, eithei- in mines or 
reduction works, cannot fail of being remunerative. The 
i-eduction works he is erecting for the Carbiou Mining 
('ompany, oi' which he is managing director, Avili be com- 
pleted by the 1st of September But the present activity 
in the mining district and the extent of the discoA'eries 
making, indicate that the Avorks Avill bc^ Avhen completed, 
entii*ely inadequate to reduce the ores that can and mIU 
be supplied. 

Arriving at (foss's, and having a fcAv minutes to spare 
before dinner Avas ready, I folloAved the jnountain branch 
ap to the gorge whence it issues, in search of new floAvei-i^. 
1 was reAvarded in tinding the Dalea laxlflora, the Thas- 
pium montanum and a new and perhaps undescribrd Giliaj 
begides any number of the dAvarf purple Dodeeatheon, 
Polygonum bistoria and Thermopsis montana. 

Mrs. Goss had a lar<re collection of mountain cadi from 
which she inA'ited us to help ourseh'es to such as we might 
fancy, but Ave were not provided with means to transport 
them. She also had a Woodhouse jay ( Cijnocitta Wood- 
/iow^et) Avhich she presented to the ladie>, but which, to 
OUT regret, we liad to leave at Boulder, for want of faoili- 



OVKR THK PL.\I.\S ANT) OX THE MOUNTAINS. 125 

ties to bring it away. It was a most magnificent bird of 
brilliant bottle green pliiinage. 

After a most excellent dinner, to. which our mountain 
appetites did ample justice, and for "which we were charged 
a very moderate price, we started and were soon at Castle 
Eock, where wo stopped to survey it once more, fir^tfrom 
the west, then from the east side. A mile or two below 
we descried a pair f)f bighorns, ( Ovis montana,) or Rocky 
Mountain sheep, with a Iamb under an overhanging clift' 
on a terrace of the canyon wall some 1200 feet above as. 
There they stood immovable as statues, looking down 
upon us. We shouted, whooped and yelled, making all 
the noise we could, but it had no effect upon them. The 
lamb, however, became alarmed and kept dodging from 
one side to the other of the pair. 

Still further down wo stopped to see the son of our 
Caribou host, Willie Logue, a 8t. Louis boy, tourt-een 
years old, who was working on a very promising prospect 
of his own discovery. He was in a very great glee, and 
assured us that the assayer had just sent him word that a 
specimen sent had analyzed at the rate of 140 ounce*? to 
the ton. He sent a specimen of the ore to the Missouri 
State Cabinet, where it can now be seen at the Washing- 
ton University. We have since heard with regret thai 
the same discovery had been made before and recorded in 
1862. It seems, however^ by the latest news from there, 
that Willie has been in luck, and made a very promising 
discovery on the north side of (.'aribou Mountain, in the 
canyon of the iS^orth Boulder. 

Wo were next halted by one of our Boulder female 
friends, the excellent wife of Major Buttles, who is one of 
the principle stockholders and managing directoi-s of the 
Boulder canyon road, which I ought to have stated before, 
was only completed three weeks before our arrival there. 
The Major having some btisiness in connection with the 
completion of the road in the upper part of the canyon, 
Mrs. B. had accompanied him to stay a day or two; and 



126 OVER THK PLAINS AND ON TUK MOUNTAINS. 

here "vvc Ibund lic-r in the wihl, t>;looiny, mouniairi eauyon, 
beside the noisy Htresiin, occupy inj:; a cabin inude oi" poles, 
with u ground floor, covered with the wing-sh:ij»ed boughs 
of the spruce. She said slie liad just finished catching a 
tine mess of mountain trout, and pressed us to wait and 
she would fry some for us. UKl Iloman etiquette wouhl 
have required us to take an emetic to get rid <>f our din- 
ner, that we might accept the invitation. But nio<iern 
politeness, foolish, heartless and exacting as it is, deviates 
not quite as far from tlie path of common sense as the 
ancient did. Suppose it did, what judgment would Mrs. 
Ctoss form of our estimation of her cookery? 

Our next halting ])lace Mas ()pj)osite the embouchure of 
t be North Boulder. The road liei-«; crosses a bi-idgc to 
the south side of the main canynii, where avc tlrove be- 
cause here was one ol the few turnouts to pass asccTiding 
teams. After alighting, wc walked back over the bridge 
and then clambered along the precipitous sides of the 
north Avail of the canyon, down to the mouth of North 
Boulder. I soon found that J had as much as 1 was able 
to do to take care of myself, and therefore had to aban- 
don Mrs. T. to the care of Mr. (.'orson, the President of 
tiie Boulder County Agricultural Association, who luid ac- 
companied us to Caribou. The canyon of the North 
Boulder was even more difficult than the first. By run- 
ning any number of i-isks of breaking our necks, or of a 
cold bath in the stream, we stood at length on a very nar- 
row gravelly beach facing the tails. The canyon runs 
northwest, but suddenly be.eomes a cul de sac; a perpen- 
dicular wall, a thousand feet or more high, lies, right 
across it. The falls meet the canyon from the northeast 
and therefore at right angles. To the right of the falls 
the northeast wall of the canyon consists of red granite, 
and is apparently a mountain peak cleft in twain perpen- 
dicularly and rising to an altitude of from 1 ,500 to 2,000 
feet. Between this peak and the mountain closing up the 
canyon the water has cut down through the gi-anite a 



OVKR THK I'LAINH .WD ON TH.K MOUNTAINS. 127 

trough some 300 feet deep and 20 feet wide. This trough 
is of the satnc width throughout, and perfectly synimetri- 
ciil. Jt is tlie only iustajice 1 .saw in the mountains of 
erosion, the canyon Avails invariably being cleavages 
made by convulsions of Nature. The tails are about 20 
feet -vvide and 70 feet high. They strike a slanting rock 
inclining to the northwest, which lies on the east side of 
the canyon. The rock is about 12 feet high; it therefore 
pitches the water, the south half of the cascade that tjills 
on it, .against the northwest wall, w^hich closes the can- 
yon. The other half goes Avithout any obstruction to the 
bottom behind this deflected sheet and boils up at our 
teet white as milk Avith foam. We are standing Avithin 
3() feet of the tails and facing it, and occasionally a whirl 
of air carries the spray into our faces, but the roai* is ter- 
rific and the ground trembles beneath our feet. Behind 
the falls is a large caA'ity extending to within ten feet of 
the top, so that the falls pour OA-er a projecting rock, leav- 
ing a deep recess. What wias singular a Eocky mountain 
blue-bird, the Salia arctica, had its nest in this recess, and. 
it had evidently "not learned the fear ot man," for it 
would come down to the beach on the opposite side and 
within fifteen feet of us, without seeming to notice our 
presence. It would hop about, and after finding an in- 
sect, often a grasshopper that had come over the falls, it 
would rise, and after a little suspension would dart in 
through the thinest part of the falling sheet, close by the 
north wall. A moment after and it Avould re-a])pear at 
the game point to repeat the perfoi*mance. There is a 
second fall a short distance above the loAver, of some 45 
feet, which is said to be extremely grand, but it is inacces- 
sible from this point. After an equally hazardous scram- 
ble, we got back to our couA^eyances, but now avc found 
ourselves in trouble. Some teams had come up from 
below carrying a part of Col. Cutter's machinery, but our 
vehicles blocked up the way, so there was neither a way 
k> retreat nor advance for either party. After mutual 



128 OVKR THK Piai>'>5 AX5D OX THE MOCXTAINS. 

consultation, it was discovered if we unhitched and took 
the horses uero«iS the bridge, and then piled up the veh.i- 
oles, room could be made for the wagons to pan-s, which 
being done, all of us went on our way rejoicing. It was 
about eun»ct when we issued from the mouth of the can- 
yon, upon the plain where stands the citj- of Boulder. 



OVSa THE PLAINS AiTD ON THE MOUNTAINa 129 



CHAPTER XI. 

The next morning, Friday, June 16, I waa up with tttQ 
•dawn and out on the streets. They were* yet dcsertod 
and silent. Not a living thing waa to be seen nor hoard, 
except the ever purling murmur of the waters hastening 
down over the plain. Instinctively I was drawn to their 
fiideand up their brink and on to the bridge that spans the 
Boulder opposite the centre of the town. It was yet twi- 
light and I stood on the bridge for some moments musing- 
ly looking at the flow and listening to the murmur of the 
waters ; and then raising my eyes to look at the aperturo 
in the mountains whence they issued. Oh, those moun- 
tains how dear to me now that I have made their acquain- 
tance ! When I recalled the gloom and solitude of tho 
rifted canyon in the Cordilleras through which these waters 
have flowed, and the ovcrj^owcring and magic grandeur of 
the scene^'y of which they had formed a part, I felt sad. 
I thought that they, like I, had loft forever scenes of in- 
spiration that give birth to thoughts and emotions too 
high and holy for utterance, to mix hereafter with tho 
low, groveling, commonplace humdrum of every-day life. 
Pui'ling and dancing and singing so joyously as they 
glided along over their rocky bed, I could not help sigh- 
ing : Ah, little do they know of what is before them ! I 
felt like apostrophizing them thus: Ah ! well may ye of 
so little experience be light of heart and dance and sing 
and prattle with glee as you hasten from your mountain 
home. Soon the merciless iron of experience will pono- 
trate your bosom and j-our joy will flee forever. You 
will enter into the groat throng, and ftilling under its bo- 
numbing influenoes will lose your identity forever. With 
9 



130 fATER THE l'L\lNfS AND ON THK MOUNTAINS. 

them, you will pursue a sluggish career amid fens, bogs- 
and sandbars to obstruct your "way, till you finally fall 
into and are lost in the great ocean of which you are an 
emanation. Were ye sentient, and had ye the faculty of 
prevision to see the low career before j-ou and its final end^ 
like the dying Swiss boy, ye would entreat and cr}': 

" <)h, 'carry me back to jny mountain home. "' 

But fate has set its seal upon nie as well as you, and from 
you I can learn the lesson to be eheertui, and not repine- 
while obeying his behests. 

Breaking from my reverie, I crossed the bridge and 
followed the pebbly margin of the stream up to the 
mouth of the canyon, examining the endlos3 variety of 
size, color and material of the boulders and pebbles of 
which its bottom and margin aro composed. Then turn- 
ing south and following the base of the mountain, I soon 
ascended one of those terraced plateaux that invariably 
lie against the mountains between the mouths of canyons^ 
and gulches. The plateau I followed till it terminates at 
Bear srulch, and thence down till I reached the road lead- 
ing to town . The view from the plateau is most charming, 
even finer than from that on the north side of the stream 
already described, since it brings the valleys of both the 
North and South Boulder under neaivr view, and for a 
greater distance the valley below their junction at Val- 
mont. The lower plain and that of the plateau were 
densely covered with flowers, all of which have been men- 
tioned before except the Mertensia panmdafa ai^d the 
Campamda rotundifolia, which' I found in the mouth of 
Bear gulch, and the beautiful Lippia cuneifoh'a of the lower 
plain. 

Afler breakfast at the Colorado House, where we put 
up, the proprietor axUed my attention to some stones used 
for flagging the pavement, which he said were " photo- 
graph Btonefl. " I found several largo slabs fringed around 



OVER THE PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 131 

with images of miniature trees and forests. "While I was 
examining them, Mr. J. A. Carr, a grocer, but formally a 
miner, and a true lover of Kature, passed by; and seeing 
what had attracted my attention, sai<l if I would go to his 
store he would show me, and make me a present of very 
fine specimens of these stones. Complying with his invi- 
tation, I accompanied him, and he gave me a specimen of 
great beaut}^ — two miniature trees, more than six inches 
in length, imprinted on a fine white sandstone. He said 
about two miles north of town, the top of the first hog 
back was entirely composed of these stones. These, how- 
ever, were of a red sandstone, while the white specimen 
he gave me was from a hog back tAvo miles Avest, in the 
recesses of the mountains. 

He very generously got a carriage and took me out to 
the locality. In di-iving out I noticed on the edge of the 
plain, near the mountain, and running parallel to it, a 
dark-looking rocky ledge, rising sometimes to a height of 
80 feet above the plain. This is a bluish semi-crystalline 
limestone, from which excellent lime is made. It occa- 
sionally appears along the foot of the mountains, but 
nowhere else on the plains. Arriving at the foot of the 
spur, on the summit of which the "photogra^ih stones" 
are deposited, we found it consisted of red sedimentary 
sandstone, upheaved to a hight of some 1,200 feet above 
the plain. Against its sides lies a steep bank of earth, 
through Avhich the rocks protruded^ and which is carried 
up to a hight of some 500 feet above the plain. Then 
comes the rock split into lamina from less than one-half to 
six inches in thickness. This upheaval is very steep and can 
be ascended only by using both hands and feet, a danger- 
ous performance, however, since often you get on a slab 
which will slide down the side of the mountain with you. 
After ascending about one-third of the acclivity, we com- 
menced splitting the slabs, and Avherever there was an in- 
dication of a seam, we always found the " photograph 
tree " and sometimes a picture representing a forest. All 



132 OVEll THE PLAINS AXD ON THE MOUNTAINS. 

the handsomer ones wc slid down the eidcH of the moun- 
tain to take with us, but they were generally broken into 
fragments by the operation. However, wo secured a fine 
lot, which we brought home with us,. Different explana- 
tions had been given of the nature and origin of these pio- 
turcs of trees and forests in the seams of these stonea. 
One is, that as these are sedimentary rocks, annual frosh- 
ets brought down from highlands silicious matter which 
would be deposited on the botton of some pool or pond of 
still water. During the interval between freshets, mosses 
would grow and spread themselves out on the bottom of 
these pools, which in turn, were submerged by the sedi- 
ment of the succeeding freshet. As these lamina wor6 
often not more than a fourth of an inch in thickness, this 
account for their origin and nature appears quite plausible. 
But the fatal objection to this theory is that the cleavages 
in which these figures occur arc always perpendicular to 
the sedimentary stratification. 

Another theory to account for them is this — that they 
are of elective origin, and that the figures are the photo- 
graphs of trees or forests that once stood around the pools 
in which these sedimentary deposits took place ; that a 
flash of lightning, after night, had photographed the ima- 
gaa of these trees upon the bottom of the pools, which wad 
supposed to have been sensitive to such an impression — in 
other words, somewhat similar in condition to a photo- 
graphic plate. In support of this theory they advance 
the well-observed and indisputable fact that persons killed 
or shocked by lightning often have the image of a troo, 
leaf or branch intervening between them and the main 
electric discharge imprinted on their bodies. This theory 
also assumes that the lamina in which these figures occur 
aini identical with, or at least parallel to, the sedimentary 
layers, when the fact is, they are at right angles to them 
— a fact likewise fatal to it. 

The true explanation of these figures is as follows : If 
we put some niorcujy in a phial filled with a weak solutioa 



OVER THE PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 133 

of nitrate of silver, in a few days, if not disturbed, the sil- 
ver will bo found precipitiited, the crystal constituting a 
beautiful tree-like form, called Diana's tree, {Arbor Diance). 
Similarly the lead tree, {Arbor Saturni) is precipitated 
from acetate of lead by zinc. They are therefore simply 
arborescent mineral figures, that is, crystalizations of some 
solution of manganese which had been carried bj*^ the 
water into the fissures of these rocks, and there precipita- 
ted and crystallized by the reaction of iron, or perhaps 
potassium. They are known to geologists as dendrites, 
that is, stone trees. 

After dinner, accompanied by Mr. Corson and 'Squire 
Dabney, we drove out to the South Boulder, some four 
miles, to inspect the iron works of Langsford & Marshall, 
adjacent to their coal bank. A mile or so from town we 
passed the limits of cultivated fields, and found the plains 
covered with cattle. There are again tine farms on the 
South Boulder, though they occupy but an insignificant 
area when compared with the scope that can be reached 
by irrigation. The South Boulder we found a limpid, 
turbulent, rapid creek, like all the streams issuing from 
these mountains, though less in size than the main Boul- 
der. 

On its south margin are the iron works, where consid- 
erable ore is smelted and castings made ; but they were 
not in operation when we were there. The iron ore is 
obtained on the terraced plateau in which their coal bank 
is situated. A good strata overlies the coal, but is not 
fully developed. Most of the ore heretofore used has been 
gathered by collecting the loose nodules on the plateau 
and the adjacent plain. The nodules are oflen several 
feet in diameter, and are red hematite of varying richness. 
Judge ^loore, who has had some experience in such mat- 
ters in Pennsylvania, nays if they would assort their ores 
and not use them indiscriminately, more satisfactory 
results would be attained, both in the quantity and quality 
of the metal. In fact, that the ores generally are rich 



134 OVKK THK PLAINS AND ON THK MOUNTAINS. 

enough to make the enterprise eminently successful. The 
eoal mine is situated some two hundred yards southeast of 
the iron "svorks. It is a drift running southwardly under 
the bench or plateau. The coal is metamorphosed lignite, 
being but one remove f)-f)m anthracite It is light, and 
docs not soil the fingers in handling. The vein is thirteen 
feet thick, and often stumps of petrified pine ti-ees are 
found in it. What is most singular about it is that it is 
permeated in all directions by seams of resin; and often 
lumps of pure amber colored resin vai'ying in size from a 
hazelnut to a hen's egg, are found embedded in it. j!\naly- 
sis give about 50 per cent as the amount of fixed carbon 
contained in it; ashes under two per cent, and entirely 
free of sulphur. It is found to answer most admirabl}- for 
smelting all kinds of ores, the only drawback being its 
tendency of breaking u]) into parallelopipeds and then 
fusing into a mass, thus choking up the draft. 

We explored the mine as far as worked, some three 
hundred yards in a straight adit. It is under the superin- 
tendence of Mr, Henry Wrigley, a Wek-h miner, formerly 
of St. Louis, and who at once recognized me. 

This is unquestionably not only the largest, but the best 
deposit of coal on the western plains. There are no loss 
than eleven distinct veins M'ith but small intervals between 
them. The aggregate thickness of eight of these, ascer- 
tained by working them, is sixty-three feet; the thick- 
ness of three being unknown. A vein 12 feet thick of the 
same deposits is worked at Erie, twelve miles from the 
mountains, and extends south towards Golden Cily, but 
thins out before reaching there ; it also tlL'])ivciates in 
quality, as shown by Profess<ir Ilaydon's Geological report 
of 18Gi). 

We then visited other mines farther down on the plain ; 
and among them the sliatl on the 10th, the school section, 
•which some malicious persons had set on fire, and which 
was banked up with earth to smother the fire. Strata of 
the best fireclay are intei'])osed between the veins of coal 



OVER THE PLAINS AVD ON THE MOUNTAINS. 135 

varying from 4 to 8 feet in thickness. These will be 
invaluable for furnaces hereafter in smelting the ore(r» 
of the mountains. 

On our way back to town we inspected some of the 
principal irrigating canals, and examined the method of 
applying the water. AVe found main canals away out on 
the highest benches of the j^lain, conveying water to 
ranches from five to eight miles distant. The general 
regulations here respecting irrigation are, that proprietors 
of land Join and excavate an irrigating canal along such 
line as will supply water to the greatest scope of territory 
compatible with their own interest and convenience. Af- 
ter the canal is so constructed, any one entering land " un- 
der ditch, " as they call it, that is, that can be irrigated 
from any completed canal, is required to pay the proprie- 
tors of the canal at the rate of fifty dollars for^every quar- 
ter section of land so entered, or acquired, which had no 
water privileges. This secures to him forever the privilege 
of free use for all the water required for irrigating his 
land ; the number and size of the sluices, however, are 
regulated by law. lie is subject, however, to such annual 
assessment as may be necessary. to keep the main canal in 
repair, which is found on an average never to exceed foui- 
dollars per year. This, added to the interest on his origi- 
nal investment, makes the cost of water from four to five 
cents per acre annually. About Denver irrigating privi- 
leges have become a monopoly ; and the monopolists 
charge outsiders one dollar and fifty cents per acre annu- 
ally for water. 

We passed fields of oats, barley, wheat and corn, all un- 
der irrigation, of the darkest green, and in the most thrif- 
ty condition. AVe also passed a meadow of splendid 
promise. Finally we came to the ranche of a farmer from 
Pennsylvania, the largest wheat grower in the territory-, 
whose name I have unfortunately forgotton. lie has been 
here nine years, and for the last seven years has not 
raised less than 5000 bushels annually. This year be ex- 



138 OVEH THK PLAINS AND OX THE MOUNTAINl*. 

poets between OQOO and 10,000 bushels. lie was in his. 
•v^'hoat field, :i!>out 190 acres, with his hoe, attending to 
irrigation. Wc stopped and had a long conversation with 
him. From him we lcarno<l, as wo did from others, that 
their crops never suffer from insects, bec-auso they drown 
tlicm out; that there is never any rust on the blade, nor 
emut on the berry, beca.uso the aridity of the elimato pre- 
vents all fungoid growth. The wheat I examined at the 
mills gave testimony to the same effect. It had the plump- 
Oflt kernels I ever saw. No imperfect, diseased or shriv- 
eled kernel could be found. I asked him what effect the 
cixtonsion of railroads will have upon the price of whcat^ 
oats and barley. lie said none whatever; wo fear no 
competition here, because the quality of our wheat, and 
tx)n8oquontly of our flour, is so superior that it will always 
command a higlier price than any that can be brought hero 
from abroad ; and then with irrigation, and with our ox. 
emption from disease, our crops never fail; while wo 
raise fully between two and three timcw as much per acre 
as you average in Missouri. To the inquiry what ho had 
obtained for his crop last year, he answered, three dollars 
and forty cents per cental, (that is, S2 04 cents per bushel) 
which was about New York price for prime white wheat* 
I asked him about the gni.sshoppcrs. '' ^yelI," said hor 
"wo had them here one year. Tliey came over the moun- 
tains and eat us out, and then left for eastern Kansas and 
Missouri, and would have eaten you out, too, had the sea- 
son been longer." I asked him what he supposo<l was tho 
average yield ]>er acre of wheat, oats and barley. 
""Wheat," said he, "taking all that receives respectable 
cultivation, will yield on an average of thirty-fivo bushels. 
per acre. r>ut, by tho best cultivation, this can bo in- 
creased fi-oni twenty to thirty bushels more ])er acre. A 
premium field of five acres averaged sevcTity-one bushcLs 
per acre. Oats and barley," ho said, " would yield from 90 
to 120 bushels ]>cr acre; corn, ordinarily, abov.t thirty-five 
bushels, but as high as eighty bushels lias been attained. 



OVER THE PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS, 137 

Meadows will yield two and a half to throo tons per aero, 
Imt the hay is not of the first quality." But this is the 
case everywhere. No hay of prime quality is made any- 
where, where the growth is rank. I examined some timo- 
thy (Phleum pratense) that had spikes from six to oi;^ht 
inches long, and was coarse in haum in proportion; and. 
this is the cause of its inferior quality. There is a wild 
timothy in the mountain parks which I did not soc, which 
is eaid to yield heavily and to make a better hay than the 
tamo on the plains below. It may prove indentical with 
tho Phlemn alpinum, found on the White Mountains in 
New Hampshire, and on the mountains of Europe. 

It will thus bo seen that though the natural climate of 
Colorado is such that agricultural pursuits, for lack of 
moisture, could not be conducted successfully, yet whero- 
evcr tho soil can be irrigated the agriculturist is practi- 
cally independent of the weather. In its season the sun 
pours down a flood of light and heat from an intensely 
blue sky, and through a perfectly transparent atmosphere. 
Though the clouds withhold their i-ain, yet their remiss- 
ness is retrieved hy the abundant water that flows from 
tho melted snows which the mountains collect during the 
"winter. No wonn or other insect devours the succulent 
grain, while growing, nor is it ever smitten by blight, an 
abundant haiwest therefore never fails to reward tho arrri- 
culturist, nor is there little variation in quantity and none 
in quality. 

All this is indisputably true ; but still tho picture is too 
highly colored. There are some drawbacks, which are 
patent to every close observer. In the first place, when 
tho water is withdrawn the soil becomes as hard as a 
brick, and there is no stirring it until the rains and winter 
frosts have mellowed it again. For this reason, but little 
winter wheat is or can bo sown unless there are heavy 
rains in the latter part of summer, which is sometimes the 
case. Then, the watera coming fi'om the melted snows in 
tho mountains, only 20 miles distant, and from tho short 



138 OVKR TUB PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 

time it tukois them, because of the i*apidity of their de- 
scent, are j-et intensely cold Avhen they reach the plains. 
Hence there is an unevenness in the ripening of the 
grain, the coldness of the M'ater keeping back a strip just 
below every ditch, while that portion of the field which 
receives water that has flowed over a considerable surface 
iihd become warmed, comes earlier to maturity. But the 
coldness of the water is the most serious drawback in irri- 
gating corn, which is a lover of heat. This is partially 
overcome by letting tho water flow over a considerable 
extent of plain or pasture land until it has become 
warmed, and then gather it into ditches again and apply 
it to the corn. But the fact is, corn can be raised about 
us well without as with irrigation, and sometimes, in favor- 
able seasons, produces crops fully as heavy as the average 
crop in Missouri. 

It must also be stated that occasionally there occurs a 
season when tho rains are sufficient to mature all crops 
without irrigation. Thus in 1868 the irrigating canals 
were not opened at all. A season of thunder-storms com- 
mencing in the mountains in Jime and contitiuing to Sep- 
tember, often extends to the plains along the foot of the 
mountains. Then corn yields an abundant crop. 

Spring wheat is almost universally raised; but the flour 
and bread made of it have no resemblance to those of spring 
wheat in the vStates. The flour contains less gluten, and 
consequently is not sticky like flour made of spring 
wheat in the States. The bread made of it is as white as 
that of the choicest St. Louis brands j and then it is so light 
and spongy. I actually believe it also has medicinal prop- 
erties. "Why should it not ? The soil on which it grows, 
■when the water is withdrawn, becomes encrusted with the 
■carbonate of soda, white as if a flurry of snow had passed 
over it. Cattle lick this crystalized soda, and never need 
to be salted; in fact, they will turn up their noses, if you 
off'er them salt, and walk away. Soda springs and lake^ 
abound throughout tho mountain region ; and since the 



OVER THE PLAINS AM) ON THE MOUNTAINS. 139 

soil on tho Plains is almost exclusively formed of debris 
from the disentegrated rocks of the mountains, it is pecu- 
liarly rich in phosphates of lime, soda and ]K)tash. The 
grain that grows upon such a soil must partake richly in 
these phosphates, especiall}' that of soda. Hence the 
chemical action taking place betAveen the soda and the 
gastric juice must give rise to electric currents in the 
system. 

Since then the Colorado Fair has been held at Denver, 
and the Boulder county, at Boulder j the following amongst 
other awards w^ere made : At Denver to Jolin G. Lilly, of 
Arapahoe county, in which Denver is situated, first pre- 
mium for largest yield per acre of wheat, on entire farm. 
Amount of acreage being 90 acres, yield 4,988 1-2 bushels, 
or a fraction over 55 bushels per acre. 

At Boulder, for best field of corn raised in Boulder 
county ; first premium to M. CI. Smith, being 70 bushels, 
less 19 pounds, to the acre. Second premium, Mr. 
Walker, 64 bushels to the acre. 

First premium for largest yield of potatoes per acre to 
David Hersham, being a fraction over 805 bushels to the 
acre. Seventeen of these j)otatoe8 made a bushel by 
weight. First premium for best half-dozen beets, to G. 
F. Chase, the average circumference being 31 inches each. 

The best half-dozen heads of cabbage; first premium to 
Mr. Smith ; average weight of each head being 54 1-4 
pounds. The rival competitor's average was 53 1-2 
pounds per head. 

The extent of arable lands is the limit to which irrigation 
can bo carried. How far east of the South Platte this 
may be done I am unable to say definitely, but so far as 
the supply of water holds out. Between the Platte and 
the mountains there extends a triangular plain from the 
debouchure on the plains of the Cache a la Poudre to that 
of the South Platte, whose longest side along the foot of 
the mountains is about 90 miles. From the mouth of the 
Platte canvon until it receives the Cache a la Poudre the 



140 OVER THE PLAINS AND ON THK MOUNTAINS. 

distance is about 80 milos. The course of the latter stream 
from the time it leaven the mountainn until it meets the 
Platte i.s about 40 miles. The following arc the moun- 
tain HtreauiH ])roceeding south from the Cache a la Poudro 
in the order in which they occur: Big Thom])8on, a trib- 
utary of the IMatte ; I-iittle Thompson, a tributary of Big 
Thompson; St. Vi-ain's Fork, a tributarv* of the Platte; 
Left Hand Crook ; and then Boulder, both tributaries of 
the St. Vi-ain; South Boulder, a tributary of Boulderj 
Coal Creek, a tributary of South Boulder; Clear Creek, a 
tributary of the Platte; and tinally Bear Creek, which 
ialls into the Platte above Denver. Besides these there 
are numerous branches which issue from mountain gulches, 
but whose sources measurably fail before the summer is 
over. 

This triangle included between the mountains and the 
Plattocovei-s an area of about 1,800,000 acres of land, four- 
fifths, at least, of which can be irrigated ; and the whole is. 
one of the most desirable grazing regions in the world. 
To substantiate this 1 quote from Professor llayden's 
United States Geological Peport of 1869, page 144: 

*♦ Snow sometimes, though rarely, reaches a depth of 
twelve inches; yet it passes off as rapidly as it cornea^ 
seldom remaining longer than twenty-four hours. Even 
in the vallc}-^ which peneti-ate the first range of mountains 
in the northern section this is the case. Some winters but 
little snow falls during the entire season. As conclusivo 
evidence of this statement, cattle are herded out during 
the entire winter in all parts of the Territory, such a thing 
as preparation for winter feeding being almost wholly un- 
known. And 3'et in the spring they will come out in as. 
/rood order as those of the States which have been housed 
and fed day by day. The Mexicai\ horses, or bronchos, 
■will also winter out during the winter like the cattle." 

This, however, is only true of the plain immediately 
along the base of the mountains, say a strip from 15 to 20 
miles wide. Ix>wer down on the Plains, it does not 



O'ER THE PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS, 141 

always hold good. There are exceptionally cold winters, 
when the depth of the snow and the intense cold are fatal 
to stock unless fed and sheltered. 

The herds in Boulder county are not verj' large, ranging 
from 400 to 1500 head. Wm. A. Corson, the President of 
the Boulder County Agricultural Association,' is one of the 
principal stock raisers in the county. 

It will be seen, from what is said elsewhere, that tho«e 
vast parks, formed of the table-land on the summit of tho 
mountains, possess an agricultural value that cannot as yet 
be estimated. That they are admirably adapted for dai- 
rying purposes there is no question. Butter made there, 
in quantity, quality and delica,cy of flavor, surpasses that 
of the famous land of Goshen. They are also well 
adapted for stock-raising. Hay, oats, barley, rye and even 
wheat can be raised in all of them notwithstanding their 
great altitude above the level of the sea. Of hay, oats, 
turnips and cabbage, no country yields more abundantly^ 
area for area, than the three most elevated of these parks. 
Their value for agricultural purposes was early acknowl- 
edged, not because their soil was richer and more produc- 
tive than that of the mountain lands east of the Snowy 
Range, but because their lands lay in compact bodies; 
while those of the elevated mountain plains east of the 
Snowy Eange are broken up and dissevered by spoi-adio 
peaks, and cleft asunder by gulches, deep chasms and im- 
passable Ciinyons. The difference in the quality of tho 
soil, if any, is in favor of tho mountain lands. It is no 
unusual thing to find a black soil of humus or vegetable 
mould from four to six inches thick underlaid by a rich 
subsoil of ochreous clay. Notwithstanding the broken 
character of the mountain table-land, fully one-fourth of 
it is arable, and three-fourths of the remainder is well 
adapted for grazing purposes both for sheep and cows. 
This is contrary to the generally received public opinion, 
but it is nevertheless true. Potatoes of tho largest size, 
w^eighing as much as four poundi apiece, and of tho best 



142 OVER Tin: plains and on thk moi.ntainss. 

quality can be raised on these hills and mountain plains 
without irrigation. The yield often appi'oximates 300 
bushels to the acre, %vhich is larger than is generally ob- 
tained in the rich prairie lands of the Valley of the Mis- 
sissippi. 

These lands indeed are often rough, but I have seen 
thousands of acres cultivated in the Eastern States not 
only rougher and steeper, but poorer and far stonier thaa 
these. 



OVKR THK PLAINS AND ON XHK MOUNTAINS. 143 



CHAPTER XII. 

Colorado seems to be regarded as a favorable ground 
for trying colonial experiments. I heard, while there, of 
no lens than three locating committees that were exploi*- 
ing the Territory for the most favorable location for a 
colony. One of these represented a Boston colony^ 
another a Western, and still another a Tennessee colony. 
r have not heard whether they have linally fixed upon 
their sites, or at what conclusion they have arrived. 

To those affected by this colonizing mania, and who 
tbink of acting a personal part in carrying out such a 
scheme, I would address the admonition, 

" 'Tis distance lends cncliantment to llio view. " 

The most rugged landscape viewed from afar looks 
charming and roseate, but it is otherwise w^hen we meet 
face to face the stern realities of Nature, Then the path 
that promised to lead easily and gently over a smooth 
and level plain, shaded by trees, enameled by flowers and 
enlivened by the songs of birds, is found to be rugged, ob- 
structed by rocks and floods, full of yawning chasms and 
insurmountable precipices, a real "howling wilderness," 
the roaming ground of the wolf, the tiger, the panther and 
the bear, exacting resolution, energy, courage and daring 
to make way through it successfully. So it is with these 
colony schemes. It would bo a nice thing if a hundred or 
a thousand persons of small means, but large hearts and 
noble aspii'ations, could locate upon a territory now of no 
intrinsic value, and to all of which their very presence 
would give a marketable value often, fifty; or even a hun- 



144 OVER THE PL.\IN8 ASD ON THK MOUNTAINS. 

drod dollai's an aero, JIow easily and i-apidly pooplo 
would then ])nsa from slrailcnod tiix-uin.stances to compo- 
tence,*and even afilueiicc. 

There is no doubt that after years of patient endurance, 
and h()])ing as^ainst hope in many instancos, this Avill bo the 
caeo, but the sanguine colonists sec all this i-ealizoil at 
once, without any trial of waiting and tiring of patience; 
with no hardships to be borne, nor any privations to bo 
endured. He supjx)se8 that in a new country labor is 
scarce, and therefore must be in demand, and that the 
products of his industry and skill will find a ready mar- 
ket. All this is a delusion M-hich sad experieiue -will dis- 
pel. If a vacancy for a colony, with all these advantages^ 
could be found in the heart of a civilized community, all 
these dreams and expectations would be speedily realized; 
but out on the vast Plains, surrounded by a domain only 
inhabited by the wolf, the caj'ote, roaming beasts of prey 
and wild animals, and where the only towns and villages 
are those of the prairie dog, the conditions forbid such in- 
stant realization. There a man with the inventive gcniua 
of a Walt or Fulton, with strong arms, Avilling mind, and 
skillful hands, is practically reduced to inaction, bocauso 
there is no use for their skill or talents and no demand for 
any article they can produce. Such a community neces- 
sarily is Avithout money because it ])roduce8 nothing that 
brings nioney ; and all cash that accidentally finds its way 
tiicro is sent abroad to obtain necessaries. Trade within 
the comnuiiiity is thus reduced to bartering and its Indus-- 
try diverted to doing ''chores." Such ever has been and 
iilways must bo the case of isolated communities beyond 
tho ])ale of civilization. Greeley now is an example that 
may be quoted both for proof and illustration. It started 
with seventeen stores and no customers except the colo- 
nists. Those for a while may have had money brought 
with them, but when that was exhausted none came in to 
supply its place, because nothing was produced that com- 



OVER THE PLAINS AND ON THK MOUNTAINS. 145 

manded money, and there is :is yet no iiuirket or anything 
that can ho produced. 

Even in the new inining communities of the jnountain.s 
the same evils are felt, hut uot in such an aggravated form. 
'They produce something that has a commercial value in 
tlie markets of the world; ])ut it is only the prime article 
they can make availahle; and from that they hardly real- 
ize more than one-half of its intrinsic value. The other 
half is absorbed by expenses in taking it to market, and 
bv middle men. Take Caribou for illustration ; it has the 
richest silver lode in the Territory — in fact, one of the 
richest ever discovered in America; and the whole moun- 
tain seems to be argentiferous. There are now more than 
one Imndred lodes opened that would, at localitii>s pro- 
vided with proper facilities, be.sources of immense wealth 
to their owners. These lodes could furnish three hundre^i 
tons of ore a week, that will on an average, assay $80 to 
the ton. But as the locality is isolated and too new for 
reduction works, they have to carry their ore, the richest 
only bearing the expense, twenty-two miles to a smelting 
furnace, where they receive just what the ])roi)rietor of th«4 
-works chooses to give them. Thus that community is 
-working along and kept from stagnation, ho])ing and 
praviiig for better times. Yet if they had reduction 
works, the mines now open would furnisVi ore that would 
jield at least $35,000 in silver per week, besides the gold, 
copper and lead. Now, perha])S, a thousand dollars is the 
limit received per week by the miners in that locality, 
■which is only about 40 per cent, of the actual value of the 
ores sold. Then this community, while its labor is aetu- 
.ully adding §2,500 ])er week to the wealth of the world, 
<loes so at an expense to itself of §1,500. Not only so, but 
the labor there that would add from §40,000 to $50,000 
per week to the common wealth, is idle and unemployed 
from necessity. New discoveries carrying oidy ores of a 
low grade, but rich enough to pay the expense of opening 
them and leave a margin to the miner besides, are left un- 
10 



146 OYER THE PLAINS AM) ON THK MOUNTAINS. 

developed, because these low grjule ores are wiilimil value 
under pi'escnt circumstances. 

The great Comstock lode of Nevada has yielded up- 
■\vards of one hundred million dollars of bullion, yet the 
average yield of its ores does not exceed twenty-five dol- 
lars per ton. Why has it been so productive and ])rofita- 
l»le? Simply because San Francisco capitalists })rovided 
reducing works, which have enriched I'oth tlie miners 
and themselves. Xow, furnish tlie new discoveries at 
Caribou^ hardly a year old yet, Avith facilities for reducing 
all classes of ores that will pay for reducing, and Boulder 
county in one year will have one thousand lodes that will 
furnish ores as rich as that yielded by the famous ('om- 
stock lode, which has enriched all connected with it.* 

These facts make it clear that colonists, whatever the- 
object of their settlejnent maybe, should be either well 
provided Avilhcash to last till the advent of their expected 
golden age, Avhicli will only be when civilization over- 
takes them, (»r ihat they should fix definitely the main 
pursuit to whicli their industry is to be directed, and go 
provided with all the ajipliances and a])])ointmenis lo in- 
sure success. 

The want of foresight to fox'esee the iiiexoi-alde condi- 
tions of isolated communities^ and hence of pi-oA-jding for 
meeting them, now ])ress heavily ujiou the colonists of" 
Colorado, and is the cause of that <lissatisfaction,l)ickering 
and crimination which more or less |)i'evail in all of 
ihem. 

I make these renuirks because there is scarcely a Slate 
east of the Misslssijjpi but has colonization schemes, and 
is excited by colony excitements. In fact colonization 
schemes are now the rage, and the rage intensifies as time 
advances. I give results as developed in Colorado, and 
volunteer unwelcome but wholesome advice to those about 



*This estimate is not mine but is that of an experienced miner, per- 
fectly familiar witli the silver mines of Nevada, Utflli and Colorado. 
My opinion is, the estimate is too low. 



OVER THE PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. l47 

entering upon such enterprises. Then if "\ve must Lave 
sueh enterprises, and as they are forewarned of \\h:it they 
have to expect, and of the stern realities that will con- 
- front theni wlien they get there, let them go prepared to 
meet the exigencies that must arise, and overcome in the 
shortest time possible the obstacles in the wa^' of success. 
I have already sufficiently spoken of Greeley to give an 
idea of the condition of things there. On the South 
Platte, some twenty-five miles below Greele}-, and below 
the island in the river covered with cottonwood, known 
as "Fremont's Orchard," is the location of the South- 
w^esteiMi Colony. It was initiated at Memphis, l)ut its 
members are from Tennessee, Kentuek}', Ohio, Indiana 
and Illinois. Its town has been named Greensboro, in 
honor of its chief projector and j^atron, Col. D. S. Green, 
now a citizen of Denver, a gentleman well and favorably 
known in Colorado. Lost Spring debouches into the 
Platte just above the town site. Its valley, about two and 
a half miles wide, has a soil of deep alluvial loam, as light 
and pliable as an ash heap, covered with a most luxuriant 
ijrowth of a peculiar kind of perennial grass, resembling, 
it is said, the famous blue grass of Kentucky. At least 
1 "),000 acres of this valley need no irrigation, and the same 
may be said of thousands of acres of the Platte bottom. 
The broad expanse of uplands away from the streams 
furnish excellent and unlimited range for jiasturage; and 
the colonists are j)rincipally engage<l as yet in stock-rais- 
ing. Of their condition, progress and prosjDects I could 
learn nothing. From the articles of association I ascer- 
tained that the organization of this colony is different 
iVom most of the others located in Colorado. There are 
no restrictions or obligations imposed on its members, no 
communism, nor co-opei-ative interests provided for. Each 
member has to pay a moderate fee of membership — one 
liundred dollars — which entitles him to s])ecial rates of 
transportation to the colonial site, a share in the division 
of the town propert}', and such other privileges as inhere 



148 OVKK THK PLAINS AND ON THK MOL\TAIN>. 

ill simihir or<;-anizuti()n.s. Eucli one i,s then left ffoo to 
7iiake.liiH own selection of vocation, and to pre-empt landn, 
cluini as homestead or otherwise, as lie may elect. There 
is a railroad talked of to I'lin iroiu BouhU-r, by way of 
Longmont, (Ireeley and Gi-ecnslxjro, down the valley ot" 
the South Platte, 1o connect with the Union Paciiic rail- 
I'oad at or near the mouth of the stream. Jn that case, 
the colony may become a thrifty settlement. 

In the sjiriug of 1870 there was organized a German 
coloiiv at Chicago, under the leadership of Col. Carl 
AVuesten. This colony made almost as much noise in the 
Avorld as did the (ri eeley, or more properly, the Union 
colony. It found its way into the high valley of the 
Sierra Mojada ( wet mountains), in Pueblo and Fremont 
•counties, in the southern part of the territory. The valley 
is south of Canyon City, located at the mouth of the cau- 
vofi of the Arkansas, which there breaks through Uh 
mountain ban'ier and passes iipon the plain. The valley 
is shut in bv spiirs of the mountain ranges. It is well 
watei't'd, alnindantly supplied Avith timber and has excel- 
lent and extensive beds of bituminous coal. 

There is a good deal of disatfection in this colony, and 
charges of corruption and dishonesty have been made 
iigainst some of the prominent men of the organization. 
Some members have left in disgust ; and in conversation 
with them lioth at Denver and P>oidder, they represents 
the elevation so great and the valleys hemmed in by bleak 
mountains, that most of the crops fail to mature before the 
frost nips them. 

1 have no doubt that much of tliis is exaggeration, pro- 
ceeding from disappointed expectations. ]\Iy own obser- 
vations rather winild discredit the statement of the failure 
of the crop in consequence of elevation. I saw as thrifty 
jiotatoesas I ever saw, in the upper part of the canyon of 
the Boulder, at least 9000 feet above the sea, and 
was told that the average yield was upwards (jf 200 
bushels to the acre. Hill's ranche, on the North Bouldei', 



OVER THK PL.UNS AND OX THK MOUNTAINS. 140 

.about three miles east of Caribou, yields him 155,000 net 
profit from hay and vegetables, and he says Avinter "wheat 
can be suw-essfiilly cultivated there. Tliere are three 
ranches, Orvis', .loiies' and l)e Laiid's, all within tiveiniles 
of Caribou, aM<l at an eh^'atiou of nearly 10,000 feet, 
which are t'Xtremely ]irotiialde to the pi'oprietors, who 
make a business of raising hay an<l vegetables, and who 
have never sustained any serious loss from frosts and 
storms. In (iilj)in county, south, and also at the foot of 
the Snowy Eange, Hall & Banta's ranches has averaged 
them §19,000 profit per annum from (>2 acres, chiefly in 
potatoes, turnips, cabbage, and other vegetables. Then 
the success of (^ueen, Cochran, llickox, Conner, etc., are 
well known fiicts. Thei-efore, I think the statement of 
frost destroying the crops in a more southern latitude, and 
most probably at a lower elevation, must be taken with 
many grains of allowance. 

There is another of these c<donies, yet in its infancy, 
located in Boulder county, about 15 niiles northeast of 
Boulder city. It is called the Chicago Colorado colony. 
We had au invitation to visit their location, but we had no 
time for that purpose. Their town, located about a mile 
north of the village of Burlington, is called Longmont. 
I think the location the best of any colony in the territory, 
since it is contiguous to the mountains, where it must 
eventually find a market for ifj? products, and adjacent to 
the settlements that extend along the mountain range the 
entire "width of the territory. It is c<»nvenient to coal 
both at Erie and Boulder; is supplied Avith himlier i'rom 
the mountains, and is well watered. It has selected and 
obtained control of about 60,000 acres of land lying longi- 
tudinally across the valleys of the Bouldei-, Left Hand, 
I;ittle Thompson and St. Train's Pork. The soil is as 
good as anj' in the territory, has all needed fiicilities for 
irrigation, good Avater power, and being so near the moun- 
tains has fine scenery; the snowy crest of Long's Peak 
rises majestically above the surrounding ]ieaks, almost due 



150 OVER Tin; plains and on the mountains. 

■west. . It will, froiu its location pcvhaps, realize its expect- 
ations in a shorter time, and with the endurance of less 
privations and hardships than an}' colony in the territory. 

The colony only commenced its ai^'ricultural o])erati()ns 
in the spring of the present year. It sowed considerable 
wheat, to what extent I did not learn; it has constructed 
many of the principal irrigating canals, and was busy in 
buililiiig. A ^[rs. E. Thompson, a weallhy lady from 
New York, made the colony a donation of fort}' thousand 
dollars Ibr purchasing a library, and she had a building 
put up that cost her five thousand dollars more to put the 
library in. Some of our party that stopped at Greeley 
met her there on her way to Longmont on a visit ; she 
came over to Boulder to join our party in our e.x- 
cursion up the canyon, but arrived too late, and went 
on to Denver. It will be remembered that there is also 
a colony at Evans, four miles from Greeley, of which I 
could learn nothing, except what I saw, and my im- 
pressions have already been given. 

From the altitude of Colorado a rigorous climate would 
be inferred. The plains in the eastern portion of the Ter- 
ritory, along the State lines of Kansas and Nebraska, are 
more than 4000 feet above the sea. At Denver the eleva- 
tion exceeds 5100 feet, and along the mountains it is 6000 
feet and upward. Between the Snowy liange and the 
Plains there is a gradual ascent; the table-land attainingari 
elevation on an average of a little over 8000 feet. The 
North, Middle and South parks, encircled by the Snowy 
Kange, have an altitude of about 9000 feet on an average, 
while the highest peaks attain an altitude of from 14,000 
to 15,000 feet. It is claimed that Mount Lincoln is 17,500 
feet; and Silver Ilecls 17,000 feet above tide water. The 
elevation at Avhich timber ceases to grow, "timber-line," 
as it is called, is various; on the Eastern slope it is 11,800 
feet; on the Western, 11,300, and on the isolated peaks it 
is over 12,000 feet. 



OVER THE PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 



151 



Scientists have given us mathematical formulas for cle- 
-termining climate from altitude. It is unnecessary to 
state these formulas, and the reasoning hy which they 
have been arrived at. It answers every purpose by mere- 
ly stating that in them, it is assumed that an elevation of 
every two hundred feet above the level of the seadeterior- 
.ates a climate as much as the displacement of the locality 
of one degree of latitude from the equator towards the 
polo would do. * 

Now, while these formulas may give approximate results 
when applied to the Atlantic coast and to Europe, yet, 
when applied to the continental plain and mountain sys- 
tem of Colorado they give results so egregiously erroneous 
as to show their utter worthlessness for that purpose. 

I have already stated that in no way do our Eastern 
standards of comparison serve us when applied to Nature's 
operations in this great mountain system, and these scien- 
tific formulas prove the truth of the assertion. According 
to deductions drawn from them, the table-land of the Cor- 
dilleras would have the climate of northern Greenland, 
rand the Plains along their foot even more rigorous than 
that of the coast of Labrador. But observation has estab- 
lished it as an incontrovertible fact that the Plains along 
the mountains in Colorado have the climate of the same 
latitude along the Atlantic coast, and that the climate of 
the most elevated table-lands of the mountains corresponds 
with that of three degrees higher latitude on the Atlantic 
sea-board. 

Another error in regard to the climate of Colorado is 
that its aridity is owing to the want of precipitation. 
Now, the fact is, the amount of annual precipitation on the 
mountain is nearly thirty-four inches, and that of the Plains 
a fraction over twenty. The aridity, therefore, is due to 
other causes than want of precipitation. First it takes 
more vapor under a given pressure to saturate a rare than 

*See article, Climate, in Cyclopedia of Physical Sciences. 



152 OVER TUK PL.\INS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 

a <ien5e atmosphere ; great elevation, producing rarity of 
aUnonphere, is, therelbre, the controlling cause, since it 
Tiot only rarities the air, hut reduces also the hoiling point. 
I ascertained at Caribou that the boiling point of ■water,, 
that is total evaporation, was 191.8 degrees Fahrenheit,, 
while on the seashore it is 212 degrees. Now, since water- 
evaporates at all temperatures, even when frozen, there- 
fore, in the elevated regions of Colorado, a given amount 
of water, at any degree of tempei'ature, evapoi'ates as 
much as the same quantity does at the seashore with a 
t<»mperaturo twenty degrees higher. Consequently vege- 
table and animal substances are more speedily desiccated 
there thaji in less elevated regions. Hence it is that freshi 
meatH hung up in the l>ee air never putrify, but dry up 
Kweet. Hence, also, there is so little decay of animal and. 
vegetable substance that no noxious effluvia arises from 
the one, nor mia.sma from the othei". To the aridity of its* 
'-limate Colorado owes its remarkable exemption from all 
kinds of bilious diseases. The thermometer often in Den- 
ver indicates a greater heat b}^ five degrees than we expe- 
rience in the trough of the Mississippi Valley. Yet sun- 
strokes are unknown; because it is impossible for a dry 
atJnosphere to become sultry, sweltering, smothering and 
oppressive. It matters not how warm it is, the air is al- 
wa3-s elastic and exhilarating, because evaporation is con- 
stant from our bodies. Climate unquestionably exerts an 
immeasurable influence on every living organism in both, 
the animal and vegetable k'ingdom. To a nation of inva- 
lids, (for such we must be taken to hv, if our sanitary con- 
dition is measured by the amount of medicine we consume),. 
it will be welcome news to be told that within our own 
borders there is a climate that produces almost as marvel- 
ous effects as the Spanish cavaliers expecterl to realize 
from the fabled Fountain of Y(juth which they sought in 
vain in the malarious fens and bogs of Florida. The influ- 
ence ot this atmosphere is remarkable, as is testified by 
general experience, it is entirely free from humidityj, 



OVER THK PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 15$ 

wonderfully clear, exhilarating and health inspiring. 
Mists and fogs, except when rain and snow are falling, 
are unknown. The absence of clouds, the clear intensely 
blue sky, and a brilliant sunshine are remarkai)le, the 
year round. Colorado has a wide spread celebrity already 
for releaving and curing tubercular and pulmonary alTec-- 
tions, general debility, scrofula, dispepsia, asthma, bron- 
chitis, enlargenu'nt of the liver, splenetic diseases, etc., and 
not without cause, for at least one-third of her present 
population are reconstructed individuals. 

Dyspeptics soon recover their lost power of assimilation 
and become vigorous and more robust than ever. There 
are many there who had been afflicted witli hronchitisand 
other throat affections, who had tried 3Iinnesota, the 
West Indies, California and sea voj^ages without effoct^ 
who, as a tinal resort, took xij) their sojourn in Colorado, 
and are now sx)und and well. Consumptives who come 
here before the ravages of the disease have wasted the re- 
cuperative vital energy, almost eertiiinly recover ; others 
become comparatively comfortable, even regaining a con- 
feiderable degree of vigor. Many, however, ct)me too 
late, that is in the last stages of the disease. In such c-ases 
a crisis ensues at once, followed in a few days or weeks by a 
fatal termination. The cause of this is self-evident. They 
are brought here from a dense atmosphere in which ail the 
demands of vitality areeatislied by using fi-om one-half to- 
two-thirds of the capacity of their lungs, while hei-e in 
this rarified air the full capacity of every lung cell is taxed, 
and then cannot satisfy the demand ; for to make up the de- 
ficiency the respiration is accelerated fifty per cent, that is,. 
from sixteen to twenty-four times per minute. The full 
inflation of lungs and the accelerated motion must pro- 
duce ruptures in diseased cells, hence the tatal crisis that 
speedily ensues. Before raili'oads penetrated here, when 
it took thirty to forty days to make the journey, more 
desperate cases were cured than now; because the strain 
on the lungs, caused by the inci-easing rarity of the air^ 



154 OVER THE PLAINS AND OX THE MOUNTAIN.S. 

was so gradual that the slight lesions had time to heal. I 
would therefore give this advice to all consumptives: 
Make the journey by easy stages; say first stop over ten 
days or more at Abilene, Salina or Brookvillc on the Kan- 
sas Pacific, all of which points are from 1,000 to 1,200 feet 
above the sea. Then, if no unfavorable symptoms have 
made their appearance, go to Hays, nearly 1,000 feet 
higher; thence to Wallace, some 1,200 feet higher still; 
thence to Kit Carson, about 1,000 feet higher than Wal- 
lace; thence to some of the towns at the foot of the 
mountains; and not to ascend the mountains until a 
decided improvement has intervened. By following these 
suggestions, many will be permanently cured, others 
relieved, who would rush in the very jaws of death if 
they go there at once, as many now do, as fest as steam 
can carry them, which is in about two days from the 
Mississippi. 

It is now generall}' conceded by physicians and physi- 
ologists that the j)hosphates possess great medicinal value 
in the treatment of tubercular and other diseases involv- 
ins: enfeebled vital functions. The soil on the Plains, ad- 
jacent to the mountains, is the (/efr^Yf/.s of feldspar disinteg- 
rating slowh', through myriads of years on the moun- 
tains, and carried down and deposited by floods. The 
constituent elements of feldspai", which is a silcate, are 
silex, soda, lime, potassium, magnesia, etc. Hence, the soil 
is rich in these alkalies. In fact the first crop of wheat, 
raised in some localities, was so much embued with alka- 
line matter that the flour made of it would eftervesce 
with an acid and would almost make ''suds" by adding 
lard and water; and the bread could not be eaten at all. 

Dr. Chambers, an eminent English phj-sician, in his lec- 
tures on the " Renewal of Life," gives this sensible rule 
on this subject : 

" In choosing a home for your consumptive, dr> not mind 
the average hight of the thermometer, or its variations; 
do not trouble yourself about tlie meai\ rain-fall; do not 



OVER THE PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 155 

bo scientific at all; but find out froni somebody',s journal 
how raany da3'S were fine enough to go out forenoon and 
afternoon. That is the test you require, and b}' that you 
may be confidently guided." 

Judged by this standard Colorado is one of the most 
favored sjDots on the earth for a home of the consumptive. 
There is not a score of daj'S in any year that invalids 
ma}^ not sit out of doors, ride or w^alk forenoon or after- 
noon without any discomfort. Then the nights are 
always cool so as to ensure refreshing sleej), an essential 
condition for the restoration of shattered nervous systems 
;and broken down constitutions. 

Another favorable condition is the dryness of the atmos- 
phere. There is no such thing as " damp night air." 
There is no "taking cold" if you sleep with doors and 
windows wide open summer and winter. Invalids can 
sleep on the open plains or mountain recesses, wi-apped in 
a pair of blanlcets without incurring any risk. The new, 
varied and sublime scenery inspires to activity, and the 
pure exhilerating air and mild climate invite to outdoor 
life. In obeying these impulses lies the great secret of tlie 
cmany wonderful cures a residence here has etfected. 



156 OVER THK PLAINS AM) ON TJIK .MorXTAINS. 



CHAPTER Xin. 

The founding of new coinmunitie.s on the frontier of civil- 
ization, whether done individually or collectively, is ac- 
complished at the sacritice of temporary ease and comfort. 
The hai'clships and privations it imposes are longer or 
ghorter in duration as the location has heen judiciously 
made with i-egard to tiivorable surroundings. A main 
point is to secure a location in the direction that the cur- 
rent ot migration is strongly tending; and the next point 
is not to make it too iar in advance, unless ovi'iTuling con- 
siderations determine it otherwise. Immigration can very 
a])tly be compared to the movements of those large flodvs: 
of wild pigeons in their migrations from higher to lower 
latitudes and vice versa. Invading a grain field, the rear 
is constiintly flying over to the front. Therefore the front 
soon becomes tlie rear, and the field in a short time is 
cleanly })icked over and crossed. Settlers on the 
frontier of Kansas and Nebraska, that this year are locat- 
ing just in front where the last year's wave of migration ex- 
pended itself, l)y next year find that the new wave has 
swept over and beyond them, and now rolls on thirty or 
forty miles ahead. In a year or so more, they Avill find 
themselves so far in the rear that they are no longer able 
to tell how far and to what ])oint the front line has ad- 
vanced. 

In tliat time they will, howevei-, find that the condition 
of their community is imj)roving; and that surrounding- 
circumstances are more favorable. In fact they find that 
prosperit}- is dawning upon them. Five or six years 
more and they find themselves surrounded, by all the cora- 



OVEil THE PLAIN'S A\D 0\ THE MOUNTAINS. 157 

■fort.s jiml umeiiities of long- established and con>^olidatod 
<'oinmuiiitie8. 

Imnii<fratioii i.s ra[)idly tillin*^ up Colorado, but there is 
no onward wave there at j)resent, rising higher and 
.Jiigher, and rolling farther West every year, much lens a 
reflex wave coming back on the Plains, The gold and 
•silver regions, the coves and parks of the mountains, and 
the plftins immediately along their base, are the objective 
2)oints first attracting immigrants, for reasons that in all 
aijies have swaved and determined the mi^-rations of man- 
kind. 

In migrating, num's physical wants are always the 
paramount considerations that govern him. His first and 
aibsolute necessities ever)'where are food and raiment. 
Hence lie is impelled to select the locality where these are 
to be found ; or where the means for procuring them can 
be obtained. He may safeh' undertake to cultivate th^' 
-soil if he have a reseiwe to draw upon, until the soil has 
time to remunerate him for the capital and toil expende<i 
upon it. After that it will supjily his bare necessities. 
But luxuries, and even comforts, must remain in abeyance, 
"not only until he has a surplus of productions, but a mar- 
ket for that surplus. Agricultural products are too bulky 
to bear the expense of transportation over long distances ; 
therefore in remote and isolated communities the demaml 
for them is limited to supplying the deficiency in the com- 
munity itself. The outside trader or merchant shuns such 
♦communities, not because his wares are not wanted or 
needed there,, but because he cannot make available for 
his purposes what he has to take in exchange for 
ihem. 

But if the precious metals are discovered anywhere, it 
matters not what long journeys they have to make, what 
<leserts to be passed, Avhat jnountain precipices to be 
scaled, what dangei-s to be encountered, and what hard- 
ships to be endured, the merchant and trader are there 
iilmost as soon as the miner. He is not only there with 



1.08 OVER THE PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 

the bare necessities, but with the luxuries and comforts 
of civilized life, for all to indulge in who can afford the 
means. The pioneer to Colorado therefore knows the 
shortest way for him to provide for the wants and com- 
forts of himself and famil}-, is to delve into these moun- 
tains and bring up the precious metals. 

But the mountains are not a total barren Avaste of rocks 
and precipices ; for large areas are covered with the lus- 
lious buffalo grass; and the dells and coves are decked 
with the living green of the wild timothy and blue grass. 
The settlers bring in domestic animals; milk and butter 
and cheese dairies spring up to supply the wants of the 
mining towns and camps. And such butter as is made 
here ! Ah ! the dwellers in the trough of the Mississijipi 
Valley, can have no conception what a luxury sweet, deli- 
cious and aromatic butter is. 

The mountain dells are also well adapted to the growtli 
of oats, hay and garden vegetables, especially turnips and 
cabbage, which grow to an enormous size. All these find 
ready sale and at highly remunerative prices in the min- 
ing camps, as has been stated more particularly elsewhere.. 
[ was told by old mountaineers that there was more money 
in a good hay or vegetable ranche, than in any placer in 
the mountains. This certainly has been the case, as many 
of these ranchemen have realized comfortable fortunes by 
their business; but the extension of railroads into the 
mountains will interfere with their large profits by bring- 
ing them m competition wath the ranchemen on the 
Plains. 

The Plains along the base of the mountains are selected 
by settlers for special, as well as for general reasons. 
They are admirably adapted for raising all kinds of stock 
to supply the wants of the mountain settlements. They 
are extremely fertile, and as we have seen, un equaled for 
raising the cerials, cither as to quantity and quality. 
Land near the mountains, besides its contiguity to the 
only real market that ever will be thei-e, is more desirable 



OVER THE PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 159 

and valuable than land more remote. They are not only 
nearer to an abundance of Avater, and, therefore, easily 
and cheaply irrigated, but the climate is far milder and 
more equable than farther off, down on the Plains. 
P^rom 10 to 15 miles along the base of the mountains,, 
stock, nine years out often, have no need either of shel- 
ter or provender during the winter, making their own liv- 
ing and thriving on the dried buffalo grass, the natural 
hay of the Plains. 

Lower down on the Plains, in proportion as you recede 
from the mountains, the snoAV falls deeper, lies longer on 
the ground, and the cold is severer. Stock has not only 
to be housed but provender jjrovided to feed with during 
the time that the Plains are covered with snow. There 
are exceptional seasons when this is not absolutely neces- 
Bury, but generally it would be disastrous not to be pro- 
vided to meet such contingencies. 

The reasons are therefore very plain why immigration 
flows into the mountains, or sjireads settlements only 
along their base. "When railroads, as they will before 
many years, once j^enetrate and pierce through these 
mountains, as they are metaliferous thi'ough their entii'e 
breadth, settlements Avill rapidly extend farther West, un- 
til the remaining gap is closed, and the westward tide of mi- 
gration that has flowed froni time immemorial will cease 
forever. A reflex wave recoiling from the mountains and 
rolling eastward, has yet scarcely commenced. It never will 
have much impetus, and will move slowly and cautiously. 
The obstacles to settlement on the Plains east of the 
Platte are truly formidable. The most serious are the 
want of living streams, for Stock and irrigation in sum- 
mer; and the severity and long continuance of the winters. 
To remedy the first evil, it is said that the Kansas Pacific 
TJailroad Companj^, who own millions of acres on these 
Plains, has it in contemplation to carry the waters of the 
South Platte from the mouth of the canyon where they 
debouch upon the Plains, in a canal eastward to the head 



160 OVKR THK PLAIN'S AND O.V THK MOINTAINS. 

aprinfTjs of tlu^ Smoky Hill. This is entirely feasible, but 
whether it can be done compatible -with the rights and 
interests of settlers on the Platte below, is a serious ques- 
tion. 

This is a remote and almost unknown region. Though 
<'onsiderablo has been written and published about it of a 
general character, yet nothing specific enough to cnabh' 
anyone to form a definite idea of its capabilities, natural 
resources, soil and climate. Ample reasons therefore ex- 
ist for giving these minute detiiils. It is performing a 
good service to those contemplating settling liere, to 
furnish them with reliable facts as to the inducements held 
out here to immigrants, and what are the influences hero 
-determining locations of settlements. In order that they 
may be enabled to select their location judiciously, I have 
■endeavored to furnish them with a survey of the whole 
field in advance. My sole object is to benefit those going 
into the territory whether for pleasure^ recreation, 
health or settlement. I have no object in view, and no 
interests to subserve except those of truth. As far as the 
modes of settlement are concerned, truth does not permit 
me to speak very flatteringly of the colonies established 
here. How could I, when it is notorious that great dissat- 
isfaction exists in nearly all of them. Charges of mis- 
management, corruption, selfishness, with crimination and 
re-crimination are rife in nearly all of \hem. I have not 
iissumed to judge who, if any one, is in fault; prefering 
the more charitable course, to attribute their internal con- 
dition to the inherent viciousness of the system which is 
not adapted to the condition of things here. However, 
the manager of one of these colonies has taken offence at 
nxy remarks as applied to his colony; and in one of the 
leading pa])ers in the territory charged that favorable re- 
ports could be had of all itinerant scribblers, if they 
would take charge of them, give them free lunch and 
plenty of whisky; adding, that to do the latter would be 
difiicult, since there was not a place in town where it wa^s 



OVER THE PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 161 

sold. I now publish this as an important flict and one 
which I could not have discovered in a year's exploration ; 
my investigations not tending in that direction. I think 
it however entirely reliable, for other '' itinerant scrib- 
blers" have been there since, and state it to be a fact, 
but in compensation, f )r its absence, medicine for curing 
snake bites is plenty, and answers just as "well. 

I now repeat the advice to all desiring to go to Colo- 
rado for settlement, go ah^ne, be your own colony, free to 
go where j'ou please and to exercise your own judgment 
Avhon you get there, so that j^ou may select the lociiition 
best adapted to your purpose or pursuit. If you go with 
a colony, you cannot do this. You have to locate where 
it locates, spend your money in providing shelter for 
yourself and family; and when that is done find y(nir ex- 
chequer exhausted, and without remunerative employ- 
ment to keep the ravenous wolf of hunger fi'om your door 
Away from the mountains, 3-our colony is at a disadvan- 
tage in getting a market for its products, or of transport- 
ing them where there is a market. Besides the colony 
affording no great diversity in pursuits its productions 
will be small and chiefly of one kind glutting the little 
market there is. But, in the vicinity of the mines, or in 
the towns whence the miners draw their sui^plies, there is 
a demand for all kinds of flibrics and productions. Tillers 
of the soil are wanted as well as miners, metallurgists, ma- 
chinists, experts in the different opei-ations and treatment to 
which the ores in process of reduction must be subjected. 
Here ai"tificers in wood, in stone, iron, brass, clay, hides, 
leather,wool and lint are all in demand, to carry on the in- 
dustrial machinery. Like elsewhere, some localities ai-o 
tetter than others for particular jjursuits. All that is neces- 
sary is that the adventurer is free to select, from all the lo- 
calities offering, the one best calculated for the success of 
Lis particular business. This is my advice, and I believe it 
to bo the surest and safest that can be given. It is, however, 

11 



162 OVER THE TLAIXS AND OX THE MOUNTAINS. 

optional with each immigrant to follow it, ornot, as his 
judgment may determine when he gets there. But let 
him go untrammelled. 



OVER THE PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 163 



CHAPTER XIV. 

Animal life depends upon plant life; and plant life 
upon the presence of a proper j^lant food in the soil. 
Plants, like animals of different genera, feed upon different 
kinds of food. Some subsist entirely upon mineral mat- 
ter, some require both mineral and vegetable food; and 
another class, the epiphytes, depend entirely upon decom- 
posed vegetable matter The first class will thrive any- 
where, under favorable conditions, where mineral sub- 
stances alone are present. J^ot only so, but they have the 
faculty of decomposing crude mineral matter containing 
their food, if it be not free. The most primative forms 
of plants belong to this class. 

The higher order of jilants, in so far as they depend on 
mineral food, must have it free in the soil, because they 
have not the ability to decompose rocks. Keither have 
they the faculty of decomposing vegetable and animal 
matter; therefore this part of their food must also be free 
in the soil, already decomposed, stored up and subject to 
their draft in such quantities as they may need to perform 
their function in Nature's economy. 

Of epiphytes and other parasitic plants, it is not neces- 
sary to speak here, since wo have no purpose of writing a 
general treatise upon plants, and the variety of their food, 
but only of making some brief remarks upon favorable 
conditions, for abundantly growing those absolutely es- 
sential to man. These may be termed the omnivorous 
class, since they can flourish only where there are abund- 
ant stores of decomposed matter, mineral, animal and 
vegetable, laid up for them. A little reflection reveals the 
fact that they comprise grasses, grains, fruits, etc. ; in fact 



164 OVER THE PLAINS AXH ON' THE MOTJXTATNS. 

all plants tluit serve for food to animals, and which man 
has to produce to sustain his herds, his tlocks and himself. 

It is evident that every crop he produces, makes a draft 
upon the diiferent kind of plant food stored up in the soil. 
If he I'cmoves the crop from the tield on which it grew, 
he impoverishes the soil to the extent of the draft made by 
the crop upon its stores; and lessens its ability to meet 
subsequent demands upon it. This reveals a necessity 
imposed upon man, to make restitution in some way of the 
amount withdrawn, and to keep up ample deposites in 
bank, or his drafts Avill come back dishonored. 

To keep a sutficicnt surplus on deposite, and of the right 
kind of funds, are serious questions which have vexed 
man ever since he became a waster of stores in other re- 
spects than in terra-culture. Plants do not relish in- 
differently all minerals, but each kind of plant affects 
particular minerals, and must have a full supply to meet 
its wants, or it will fail to accomplish the task assigned to 
it. or expected of it. Some plants demand salicates, oth- 
ers carbonates, while others must have phosphates and 
others again sulphates. The problem therefore is a com- 
plicated one which demands a solution from the farmer, 
even when viewed only from the mineral standpoint; 
while it is no less complicated while viewed from the 
standpoint of vcgetivble and anirnal manures. Worse than 
all is the fact, that whatever may be claimed for Agricul- 
tural Chemistry, it is entirely unable to aid him to deter- 
mine, whether all the elements of fertility are present in 
tlie soil, and in the exact ])roportions necessary to satisfy 
the demands of his various crops. 

I do nofsubscribc to the doctrine that soil leaches except 
the surplus t)f saturation ; for Nature is all harmony. 
There is the most cordial relations and amenity between 
her ordinate and co-ordinate departments, between organic 
and inorganic substances, and between dead and living 
matter, for Nature has ordained them to be inter-depend- 
ent. The soil as the harbinger of the plant, most kindly 



OVER THE PLAINS AXD ON THE MOUNTAINS. 165 

prepares iho Avay in layiniz; up stores f(jr it, and by an in- 
exorable law hold.s theni till the plant, the only proper 
claimant, ajjpears. Therefore vherever there is a point 
where there is a surplus of plant food accumulating over 
and above Avhat can be stored away, whether mineral 
or vegetable, it becomes the radiant point from which the 
elements of fertility depart to be distributed. Since water 
is the most efficient agent in effecting this distribution, 
therefore the radiant point shovdd be the summit and sides 
of a watershed, the sources and fountains of brooks and 
rivers. 

Applying these general principles to Colorado, (but 
they apply with equal force to all the States that lie on or 
flank the Andean Chain), we see at a glance what an im- 
mense advantage terra-culturalists there have over those 
in the ti'ough of the Valley of the Mississippi, or on the 
Altantie Sloj)e. The granite, gneiss, fisldspar, quarts, 
metamorphie and igneous rocks of the mountain chain, 
contain silica, lime, magnesia, soda, and potash; the ores 
they carry are either sulphurets or carbonates; and many 
springs are living fountains of soda-water, carbonate, 
chlorate and sulphate. The mountains also are deposites 
of immense beds of vegetable and animal mold, the accu- 
mulated stores of myriads of years elapsed since plants 
grew on and animals roamed over them. The soil and 
subsoil are super-saturated with these fertilizing ingredi- 
ents; and therefore they are ready to yield up at all times 
their surplus to living water running down the mountain 
slopes after rains, or from melting snows. 

The waters flowing from these mountains to the ])lains 
below, are therefore strongly impregnated with all the 
ingredients of plant food, ready to deposite them there if 
man so direct; but if not, to cany them forward to the 
sea. If anyone doubts the fertilizing pi-operties of 
waters floAving from any highlands, let him tell us the 
secret of the exuberant fertility of the alluvia! deposites 
along all rivers and streams from tJie centre of continents 



166 OVER TFIK PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 

to the seas. Let him tell us whence are derived the fcr- 
tilizin<jj qualities of imiek, 80 much valued in the mountain 
districts of the Eastern States. Let us know wh}- it is 
that the valley of the Nile has pi'oduced without artificial 
manuring, annual crops from time immemorial, and is to- 
da}^ as productive as it was in the days of Joseph. 

From the fourteenth to the sixteenth century, during 
which Spain attained the highest summit of her power, 
glory and prosperity ; wdien her soil was the granary of 
the world ; when her plains sustained a denser population 
than ever before or since ; she constructed those immense 
dams whose remains are still found across her mountain 
gorges, making reservoirs to receive and retain the waters 
of the winter rains and snows to be used in summer for 
iiTigating her arid plains. 

The ability of Asia to sustain a population numbering 
nearly to a thousand million, and for thousands of years, 
is owing to the application she has made of her waters 
whose sources are on the loftiest mountains of the Globe. 
Irri'T-ation is the magic wand by Avhich she transformed 
arid wastes into fruitful fields, and made " the desert blos- 
som like the rose." Where the system has been kept up, 
as in China and India, there has been neither deterioration 
in products nor decrease in population. But in Persia 
and in the valley of the Euphi-ates, where the system has 
measurably fallen into desuetude, there have been degra- 
dation of soil and climate, failure of agricultural products, 
and depopulation as a necessary consequence of destitution 
and starvation. Irrigation, though practiced in the East 
from time immemorial, was not introduced into Europe 
until Rome reached the summit of her power and great- 
ness. By its introduction into Italy, a, writer of the 
highest authority for accuracy says, '* Large unproductive 
districts were made to yield sustenance for hundreds of 
thousands of animals, and for millions of men." 

The Spaniards brought the system to ]\rexico and all 
Spanish America, whence it spread along the Andean Cor- 



OVER THE PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 167 

■dilleras both north and south with the Spanish settle- 
ments, being thus introduced into Sonora, California and 
New Mexico. 

Since the advent of the Americans in California, New 
Mexico, and Colorado, and • of the Mormons in Utah, it 
lias been jiracticed by them with the most satisfactory re- 
sults. At first they adopted it from what seemed to them 
a necessity, as a substitute, and a poor one at that, for 
rain ; but experience has taught them better and demonstra- 
ted to them that rain is no substitute for irrigation. They 
find, as in the case of the irrigated valleys of China, of the 
valleys of the Ganges and of the Nile, that irrigated lands 
never grow old and 'become worn out. The plant food 
dissolved and held in suspension by the water, jDerpetually 
renews the soil keeping it fresh and vigorous. Nor in 
California, Utah and Colorado is this solution of the prob- 
lem demonstrated, but also in the Eastern States. There 
are meadows in the valley of the Connecticut which are 
irrigated from that river, which have not had a particle of 
manure applied to them for twenty years, j-et which an- 
nually yield four tons of hay to the acre, which is more 
than double the quantity that can be produced on land 
not irrigable with all the artificial manure that can be i)ut 
on it. 

The products of plant life are vegetable tissue, starch, 
gum, mucus, sugar, etc. All these are composed princi- 
pally of three elements; namely, Hydrogen oxj-gen, and 
carbon. The other elements arc silica, alumina, lime, 
soda, potash, etc. Hydrogen and oxygeij are principallv 
supplied by the roots, they being the constituent elements 
of water. Ilumus (that is, decayed vegetable and animal 
matter,) consists largely of carbon, and in combination 
with nitrogen forms ammonia. Therefore carbon is also 
taken up largely from the soil by the roots. But the 
leaves have also the faculty of taking in carbon from the 
atmosphere by decomposing carbonic acid. It is only the 
mineral substances that are exclusively taken up fron\ the 



168 OVER THE PL.\INS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 

soil ; and their quantity can be ascertained by burning any 
vegetable matter, and weighing the ashes. It will be 
found that they are but a small fraction of the whole 
weight of the body consumed ; yet they form, (if the ex- 
pression is permissible,) the skeleton of the plant. In the 
mysterious oj)erations of plant life by which are elaborated 
the products of vegetation, they also perform important 
functions in breaking up old and forming new combina- 
tions. Each of the mineral salts, has a distinct function ; 
hence the necessity of its presence in the soil when its 
services are demanded. 

It has been ascertained by observation that on an aver- 
age, crops require not less than seventeen inches of rain- 
fall during the season of growth. If less than that falls^ 
they suffer from drought and fail in proportion to the de- 
ficienc}'. But rains generally fall faster than the soil can 
absorb the water: consequently much water is wasted by 
flowing off to brooks and creeks. Not onh^ wasted, but 
worse; the water takes along with it a large portion of 
soil containing its richest ingredients. A hea\^'" rain 
therefore often has a more impoverishing effect on the soil 
than two crops. 

In irrigating we will suppose that fifteen inches of water 
is sufficient to meet the demand of the crop. This will 
give 407,271 gallons of water to the acre. The time that 
the water is used for irrigation, is the time of floods from 
the melting snow. It is therefore the time that they are 
the richest in mineral, vegetable and animal matter. I 
was unable to obtain any analyf^cs of waters made at any 
time, much less at particular seasons, for the purpose of 
ascertaining the amount of plant food they hold in sus- 
pension ; consequently cannot state with precision the 
amount held in solution. But as the water used in irriga- 
tion is utilized when richest in these ingredients, I will 
assume that each gallon contains twenty grains. This 
gives 8.145.420 grains or more than 1,162 pounds of the 
quintessence of manure, which the water will convey to,, 



OVER THE PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. IG9 

and deposit in the soil per acre. This is more than the 
most exhaustive crop demands or can utilize. 

Scientists have long sought, but in vain, for ingredients 
whose combination should constitute a perfect manure, 
not only to replace deficient elements in the soil, but to 
keep it in pei'ennial fertility. They have failed to find 
them, and consequently to solve the problem, and over 
must fail, until they can tell, not only the quantity of a 
missing factor, but the exponents of each factor that enters 
into the solution. 

Nature who is wiser than Man, but who offers to him 
her wisdom as a free gift, has solved this problem com- 
pletely for him, and in the simplest manner. 8he has 
piled up on every continent her cloud constraining moun- 
tains, compelling them to leave on their summits their 
stores of rain and sleet and snow. These mountains from 
their composition are the radiant points whence the ele- 
ments of plant life take their departure, and spread them- 
selves over the continents. They are therefore Nature's 
coinpost heaps from which she fertilizes the Earth. 



170 OVER THE PLAINS AND ON THK MOUNTAINS. 



CHAPTER XV. 

Middle Park is the gem of the Rocky Mountains. The 
variety, singularity, wildnessj grandeur and sublimity of 
its scenery; the beauty of its grassy and flower-enameled 
glades, presenting, as they do^ such a marked contrast in 
color to the sombre appearance of the evergreens on the 
surrounding hills and mountains; the sheen of its crystal 
and sparkling waters that thread it as with silver bands ; 
the solitude of its forests; the tranquility of its landscape, 
the flxscinating beauty of its clear and calm mountain 
lakes, that mirror-like not only reflect the deep blue over- 
hanging sky, but the surrounding forests and ice clad 
peaks, and the enjoyment ol all these enhanced by being 
seen through an atmosphere so translucent as apparently 
to annihilate distance; will forever make Middle Park at- 
tractive to all lovers of Nature. "While the purity of its 
air, the coolness, salubrity and invigorating influence of 
its climate, will make it the Mecca of invalids seeking the 
boon of renewed vigor and restored health, or when those 
are out of the question, temporary amelioration itnd relief 
from physical inflrmities. It is as yet, only the central 
point of attraction to Coloradians, bent on enjoying a few 
Aveeks of recreation and pleasure in Summer. But to the 
outside world, it is almost as complete a terra incognita as 
though it were in the moon. During a portion of the 
year it is still the hunting ground of the Utes, who yet claim 
it, for the Indian title has not been extinguished; and 
they look with no friendly eye upon the encroachments 
of the paiefaced ranchemen, gradually extending down 
Ihe valleys of the Elue and Grand. 

The valley of the Blue is separated from that of Grand 



OVER THE PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 171 

Eiver by a mountain chain running through tho Park, 
from Gray'8 Peak in a northwest direction, antl termin- 
ating near the junction of the two rivers. Tho Blue river 
valley is, therefore shaped like a ham, with tho hock end 
resting on Grand Eiver. In 'the upper part of it, is the 
town of Breckenridge, the county seat of Summit county. 
This portion of the valley is very rich in the precious 
metals. All the mountain streams are auriferous, and the 
most extensive placers in tho Territory arc here. Gold 
Eun, Galena, American, Georgia, Humbug, French, Gib- 
son, Corkscrew, Negro, Illinois, Iloosier, etc., gulches, and 
Stilson's and Delaware flats, arc all famous placers, and 
yield now about $500,000 annually, and are said to be 
•capable of yielding double that annually a long and in- 
ndefinite time to come. Tho mountains are full of gold 
lodes but are not worked, and will not be whilst placer 
mining continues to yield . so richly as now In fiict 
j?iacer miners are opposed to lode mining. On the head 
-streams of Snake Eiver, a tributary of the Blue are, two 
mining districts, Montezuma and Peru. The latter is at 
the south base of Gray's Peak. Montezuma is a few miles 
further southwest, at the foot of Glazier Mountain, on a 
branch of the Snake. It is about 15 miles southwest, as 
the crow flies, from Georgetown, but by the wagon road 
through the chain, near the base of Gray's Peak, it is 20 
or more. From South Park, these districts ai-e reached 
through Tarryall Pass. Montezuma 'has a silver reduc- 
tion works; and at St. John's, a half a mile distant, tho 
Boston Mining Association have reduction works, saw- 
mill, etc. The girdle of snow clad mountains that environ 
Middle Park, is the culminating point of the Eocky Moun- 
tain chain. The Snowy Eange, as this towering moun- 
tain escarpment is appropriately called, since it rises from 
3,000 to 5,000 feet above the line of perpetual snow, here 
flexes or doubles upon itself. Commencing on the north 
wall of Grand Eiver Canyon, it runs first north some 
thirty miles, thence a few points south of east, to Long's 



172 DVYM TlIK I'KAIN.S AND ON THK MOVNTATNS. 

Peak. Thence Routli b}- way of James' and Cf ray's Peaks 
to a point Bomo fifteen miles south of the latter; thence 
south Vv-cst to Mount Lincoln ; thence west some 25 miles;, 
and thence north to the south wall of Grand Ptiver can- 
yon. Its flexure thus form's a hutj;e fold like that of a 
o-iti-antic anaconda. Within this fold lies ]Middle Park, 
some eighty miles lonii; from iioi-th to pouth, and forty 
wide from east to west. It heloni:;s to the Pacitie side of^ 
the Continent, since its Avaters flow west, and its sjjring* 
are lar the most distant trihutfiries of that ocean, llei-e- 
at the culminating point of the American continent, at 
the apex and most easternly trend of the (Ireat Cordil- 
leras, and amidst eternal snow and ice, they commcneo 
their lonj;- journey to the sea. At first taking their course 
due west, thev flow for hundreds of miles through the 
cra'^-giest, roughest and wildest mountain district in the 
world. Then they enter the four hundred mile canyon 
of the Colorado of the AVest, the chasm of which is from 
3,000 to 5,000 feet deep. Emerging thence, they hold on 
their way through sandy deserts for hundreds of miles- 
more, till they reach the Gulf of California; and finally 
reach the Pacific Ocean, near :>[azatlan, in ]\[exico, south 
of the Tropic of Cancer. 

The elevation of the Park above the sea, is from 7,00Q 
to 8,000 feet. The wall of porph3'ritie rocks constituting 
the Snowy flange, rises from 3,000 to 5,000 feet above the 
Park; an<l huge to<Ver like i)eaks from 3,000 to 5,000 feet 
above this snowy wall. The highest of these peaks is 
Mount Lincoln, on the south. The next in altitude is 
Long's Peak, on the northeast, 14,350 feet high. Inter- 
mediate between these two, both in height and ])osition,^ 
are Gray's and James' Peaks. Long's Peak and the 
range adjacent to it, as seen from Middle Park, have a 
rugged, sharply eockscombed, or deeply serrated a])pear- 
ance, characteristic of all mountain chains comp(Xsed of 
eniptive rocks. 

The north branch of the Grand, heads in the angle of 



0^'KR TlIK PLAINS AXD ON TIIK MOUNTAINS. 173 

Xhe Snowy I{aii<^e at the southwest base of Long's Peak; 
and the south branch near the summit of Berthoud's Pass, 
nortli of Gray's Peak. They unite near the centre of the 
oastern-half of the' Park. The course of the river is 
nearly due west ; and it receives the 131ue just before it 
•enters the canyon by which it makes its exit through the 
wall of the western mountain. Blue liiver heads near the 
base of Mount Lincoln, and flows nearly due noi-th for 
.fifty miles along the base of Blue Eiver Mountains till it 
uneets Grand Piver, Xear its mouth it is ab<iut 90 yards 
rand Grand Eiver about 160 ^-ards wide. Both rivers have 
irttrong and swift currents. 

The surface of the park is generally rough and hilly; 
■ oven rising to mountains of 1,200 and 1,500 feet in altitude 
on that range jutting out from Gray's Peak tothe junctioji 
df the two rivei's. In fact it is composed of a series of 
parka. Both Grand and Blue rivers have many broad 
savannas hedged round bj' mountains; and on all their 
JifHuents there are glades of greater or less extent enclosed 
by precipitous hills and mountain peaks. The higher 
hills, as well as the base of the Snowy Pange up to the 
"timber line," are heavily covered with pine, spruce and 
• other evergreens, besides quaking-asp (Popidus tremu- 
floides). Some of the lower portions are covered with a 
■dense growth of sage brush, a tough aromatic plant which 
attains a bight of from two to three feet, and is not 
lound anywhere east of the Snowy Pange. Grasses, such 
;n8 wild timoth}' {Phleum ^//>iV!w?i), two epecies of blue- 
grass, ( Poa serotina and P. Andina), red top, wild oats and 
the lucious buifalo grass are so abundant and luxuriant 
that neither horses nor cattle require any other food sum- 
mer or winter. Elk, black-tail deer and mountain sheep 
resort to this Park during the winter, seeking its rich 
pastures and on account of its comjmratively mild climate 
and greater exemption from snows than the surrounding 
;mountiiins. Though the snow foils to the enormous depth 
.of from 12 to 15 feet in a season; yet it is a well observed 



174 OVER THE PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 

fact that the Pacific Slope, however remote from tlic ocean,,, 
has a milder climate than on the Atlantic or Eastern 
Slope. In summer the climate is cool, pleasant and ex- 
tremely oxhilerating. Though scared}' a week passes 
without some frost; yet, strange as it may seem, flowers 
bloom throughout the season, and straw-berries ripen even 
to the hight of 11,000 feet above the sea, and in close prox- 
imity to the eternal snows. 

Crold and silver have not yet been found in paying quan- 
tities, except on the Blue as already stated; consequently 
J but little has becii done towards the settlement of the 
northern portion of the Park. The latest prospecting, 
however, indicates the ])rescnce of the precious metals in 
rich and paying qiuiiitities on the sources of Grand River. 
Quite a nimiber of cattle ranches however already exist 
on the Grand and its tributaries, and are extending down, 
the valley of the Blue towards the junction. Wheat has 
not been tried, but oats, potatoes, turnips and cabbage 
find here a congenial climate and yield enormous crops. 
When the narrow guage railroads now projected from 
both Denver and Boulder to Salt Lake ai*e completed, * 
this Park will become one of the most desirable portions, 
of the territory, not only for gi-azing purposes, but for the 
manufacturing of lumber from its large and heavy forests 
of pine and spruce. 

Near the head of frrand Pivcr, amongst the side moun- 
tains of the Snowy Range lies Grand Lake, about two 
miles long, and of unknown depth, since a sotmding line 
500 feet in length has failed to reach bottom. The moun- 
tains forming its sides rise abruptly from the waters' edge;. 
Grand River forming both its outlet and inlet. Up 
through the canyon through wich the river comes tumbling 
down, are several smaller lakes; and still higher up is 

*The one from Denver, to run by way of South Park throui^h 
HoOsicr Pass and down the valley of the Blue ; and the one from Boul- 
der, through the Snowy llansre and down the valley of the Grand, 
thence by the Grand lliver Canyon through the middle basin of the- 
Colorado" of the West into Salt Lake Valley. 



OVER THE PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 175 

Estes' Park, a miniature glade on the verge of the " tim- 
ber line" where Mountain Jim has a cattle ranche. 

The streams and lakes are filled with fish, mostly trout. 
Deer, elk, mountain sheep, hares and grouse are plenty in 
the Park, and the coyote and grizzly bear in the forests 
and mountains. When Fremont was here in 1844 the 
Park was filled with buffalo, but they have all left these 
parts now. Beaver are also plenty on all the streams and 
mountain brooks. On one stream there are at least fifty 
dams within a mile, and a regular Venice-like beaver 
city. 

There are many coal beds in Middle Park ; in fact the 
only true carboniferous coal in Colorado is found here;, 
which Avill be of immense value should the mineral de- 
posites prove as rich as it is now anticipated they will. 
Fossil wood is found in all the tertiary deposites which 
cover four-fifths of the Park, The petrifactions of fossil 
palm trees are recognized by their endogenous structure 
but the most of the fossil trees were exogens. A species 
of magnolia has been found and identified as belonging to- 
a sub-tropical species. 

South Africa has the largest and richest diamond fields 
in the world. Middle Park has no diamonds, but it has the 
richest known deposites of the inferior precious stones. 
There are thousands of acres of agate patches, and fields 
of jasper, amethj-st, opals, emeralds, chalcedony and silici- 
fied wood; in fact there are enough of these to supply the 
Avorld for ages. Many of the agates are what are popu- 
larly known as moss agates, from having those dendritic 
forms resembling petrified moss. These forms however 
originate, as has already been stated, from crystallization 
of manganese under the reaction of oxide of iron. 

The epoch in which the groat changes of climate Avere 
effected, and of the upheaval of this mesa to its present 
altitude, was one when terrible energy manifested itself 
on a tremendous scale. It has forever left the impress of 
its character on the turreted battlements of peaks above 



176 OVER TlIK I'LAINS AND ON THK MOUNTAINS. 

peaks, mountains on mountains and hills on liills, and on 
the deeply rifted canyon walls of its flowing streams. 
The whole topography of the Park is an almost unvaried 
scries of igneous rocks forming immense cones and dikes 
of basalt and Java. 

On the banks of Grand River near the centre of the 
Park, arc yet numerous hot sulphur springs. Mr. Charles 
Dabncy, of Boulder, gave me a piece of suljjhur foam, 
which he gathered from the basin of one of these springs. 
It weighs about twelve ounces. lie described the spring 
as a stream of hot water of the capacity of twenty-five 
•'miner's inches," issuing from a fissure in an over-hanging 
rock. The orifice is about fifteen feet above the basin into 
which the water pours. The whole surface of the basin is 
covered with this incrusted sulphur foanx to the depth of 
four and five inches. Immediately below the liot spring 
there is Grand Canyon, three miles long, where the river 
cuts its way through an upheaved ridge of massive felds- 
pathic granite between walls from 1,200 to 1,500 feet 
high. 

On Troublesome Creek there are monumental stones 
similar to those on the Divide, east of Pike's Peak. They 
are the remains of sandstone that have otherwise suc- 
cumbed to the erosions of the elements operating upon 
them for unknown thousands of years. They are said to 
be extremely picturesque, fantastic and weird, surpassing 
even those on Monumental Creek flowing from the Di- 
vide south of Denver into the Arkansas. 

Xear Troublesome Creek is a rectangular mural liill, or 
rather mass of light colored rock two hundred feet high. 
The sides are nearly perpendicular, and have been so 
fashioned by the erosions of the elements as to resemble a 
liuge castle. There are towers, battlements, abutments 
and gateways, so that when seen by moonlight or in the 
gray dawn of morning the effect is most charming and 
impressive, and the illusion is complete of an old massive 
castle, such as are seen upon the Rhine. 



OVER THE PL.\IN8 AND ON THE MOUNTAINS 177 

There are several parses over the Snowy Range into 
the Park, Hoosier Pass at the source ^of the Blue, near 
the base of Mount Lincoln, leading into South Park, was 
-estimated by Fremont, who passed over it in July, 1844, 
on his return from California, to be 11,200 above the sea. 
His estimate was deduced from the boiling point of water, 
lijiving broken his barometer late in the previous year on 
the Columbia. Berthoud's Pass, about five miles north of 
Gray's Peak, at the head springs of Clear Creek, as deter- 
mined by Prof. Ilayden, in 1869, is 11,810 feet above the 
ocean level. Boulder Pass, some ten miles further nortK, 
at the head of the South Boulder, also affords easy access 
to the Park. I cannot ascertain that its altitude has ever 
been determined. Its altitude probably does not vary 
much from that of Berthoud's. It is rather singular that 
on the summit of all these passes, the springs which send 
their waters in opposite directions and to different oceans, 
are in close proximit}', only a few feet, or at most, a few 
j-ards, apart. From Georgetown, there is a good wagon 
road over the Eange at the south base of Gray's Peak to 
the silver mines on the head waters of the Blue, and from 
the same place, through Berthoud's Pasn, the head waters 
of the Grand are reached. 

There are four of these ])arks in Colorado; namely, 
l^orth. Middle, South and San Luis. To which might, 
with pi-opriety, be added a fifth; namely, the upper basin 
of the Arkansas, which has all the requisites of a park as 
the word is here understood. Of North Park, in which 
the North Fork of the Platte rises, it is not necessary to 
speak. It is yet beyond the pale of civilization and not 
visited by tourists. The easy accessibility from the Plains 
has secui'cd to South Park an early settlement, and makes 
it a favorite resort of tourists, though its scenery is said 
not to be of the first order. As it has been often describ- 
ed by tourists who visited it, it would bo presumption in 
jnc to attempt a description who have not seen it. 

12 



178 OVER THE PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 

The following are the estimated areas of tlic three- 
northernmost Parks : 

ACRES. 

North Tark l,G00,00O 

Middle Park 1,900,000 

South Park 1,400,000 

"West of South Park, and separated from it by the 
Buffalo Peaks, lies the Upper Basin, or Park of the Ar- 
kansas, which heads at the western base of Mount Lincoln. 
Tn it are Oro City, Dayton and Granite, all of which were 
at one time flourishing mining towns, but now are some- 
Avhat dilapidated; not because gold is uot there, but 
becaiise it takes labor, skill, and perseverence to obtain it. 
Prosperity, however, must sooner or later return to them,, 
because not onl}- are \ho placers rich, but the lodes in thi> 
mountaiTis give bright promise of the future when caj)ital,, 
pkill and science "will be directed to their development. 

Dayton, situated on Twin Lakes, is the most charming^ 
villa<:;e in the mountains. The Twin Lakes are the lar^;- 
est lakes in ( 'olorado, and arc unsurpassed for beauty in 
the M'orld. They were the scene of a sad accident "while 
Ave were in the mountains. Young Copp, of St. Louis, 
whom a few days before we had seen at Denver, full of 
life, spirits and expectation, was drowned here by the uj)- 
setting of a hoat. 

( 'hapters could be wi'itten in describing this lovely ,- 
charming, picturesque and delightful valley, and its match- 
less scenery, without exhausting the subject. Ever^' tour- 
ist should make it a point to visit it, for. no one .ever re- 
grets having gone there. 

South of the Upper Basin of the Arkansas, and beyond 
a range of snowy peaks, lies San Luis Park, the most 
southern, the largest and the least elevated of the series. 
It contains about 12,000,000 acr6s of arable land, and its 
altitude above the level of the sea is about 6,500 feet. It 
is generally said that San Luis Park lies in the basia of 



OVER THE PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 179 

the Eio Gi'ande del Xorto, though a i^ortioii of it really m 
a continental basin. It is separated from the Taos Yal- 
ley by the Sierra Blanoa (White Mountains) running on 
its southern border nearly due east and west. They are 
the grandest, most imposing and picturesque range in 
Southern Colorado. Southeast of the Park, in the sec- 
ond range of mountains, the Spanish Peaks raise their toAv- 
ering heads above the clouds. The mountains that "vvall 
in San Luis Park on the cast, from the Sierra Blanca 
north to Poncho Pass, are of eruptive rocks, and grand in 
aspect and vast in proportions. The north Avail is of 
metamorphic rocks and rises above the line of perpetual 
snow. To the west are the Sierra San Juan (pronounced 
San Whawn). The Eio Grande rises in Los Animas (the 
Spirits' ) Park, floAvs at first east to centre of San Luis 
Park, and then turns soutli. The northern portion, a con- 
tinental basin, is San Luis Park pro^x-r. This northern 
portion is about 60 miles long and I'l to 20 miles A\'ide. 
In the centi-e of it is Saguache Lake tAvenly-four miles 
long and ten Avide, at its Avidest part. It looks like a A-ast 
thicket of " grease Avood, " (Sareobatus vermicular Is). It 
has no outlet. It seems to be a A-ast s\A-amp or bog, and 
has some 15 or 16 large streams flowing into it. It is 
said that in the interior of this bog, small lakes exist, the 
largest of Avhich is three miles in length. The A\^aters of 
these lakes, and of the bog itself, are said to haA-e an ebb 
and floAv Avith the regularity of the tide. I Avill not A'ouch 
for the truth of this, l)ut it comes to me from so many 
credible sources as to entitle it to mention here. If it is 
true, it is a remarkaltle ])lienomenon, Avorthy of scientific 
inA'estigation. As its elevation is so great aboA'c the level 
of the sea, it cannot be a tidal AvaA-e, yet there must be a 
uniform physical cause in operation to produce it. As- 
suming it to be true, I Avould suggest atmospheric pres- 
sure as the ])robablo cause of it. From the nature of the 
facts existing here, we can A^ery readily infer the hiAvs op- 
crating to produce the jihenomenon in question. The 



180 OVKtt THE PLAINS ANQ ON THE MOUNTAINS 

facts live, titlecii or sixteen lavi^e, Kesiclos many Bmall 
streams, dischar<i;e their waters into this bo<;, yet like the 
«ea it does not become full. The water therefore mu.st 
sink, s!)ice its volume is too ^reat to disappear by evapo- 
ration. Xow sui)poHin^ there is an air tij2;ht cavity, or a 
Hei'ies of air tight eavities tilled with air connected with 
the cavity by which the water slowl}- discharges, and these 
air cavities lower than the surface of the lake; then what 
would be the effect of atmospheric pi-essure in snch case ? 
From well established physical laws, there would be low 
water in the lake under a high barometer, and high water 
nnder a low barometer. I use a fountain inkstand, and 
can always tell whether the barometer is rising or tailing. 
If rising, 1 have constiintly to push down the India rub- 
ber air-chamber to keep up a su])ply of ink. But when 
the barometer is tailing, I have constantly to raise the air- 
chamber to keep the ink from overHov,ing. Precisely 
the same thing would happen to this Lake, if our supposi- 
tion of subterranean air-chambers be correct. 

Now as we know that there are two normal maxima of 
atmospheric pressure, and the same number of minima in 
a day, and also the hours of their uniform occurrence, 
therefore tho ebb and flow of these waters, if our explana- 
tion be correct, must be synchronous with these maxima 
and minima each to each. The major flow, or highest 
water would therefore be between 3 and 5 o'clock in tho 
afternoon, and the minor high wattn* between 8 and 5 
o'clock in the morning. Theinajor ancl lowest ebb would 
be at about 10 o'ckx'k in the morning, and the miner low 
water at about 10 o'clock at night. The hours of these 
maxima and minima would shift like those of barometric 
pressure with the altitude of the sun during the seasons. 
Observations would soon settle the questions whether 
there are such ebbs and flows as reported ; and if so 
whether the periodicity of tho phenomenon corresponda 
in ])oint of time with atmospheric ])res8ure, as shown by 



OVER THE PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS 181 

tho barometer, whieli it nnist, if the exjdiinntioji hero 
offered be the. true one. 

\Vhat iinikes both t!io faet.s and explanation more 
probable is, that it is not the only iuHtanee in which a 
similar phenomenon has Inen observed. Every one must 
have noticed, or if not, must In; a poor observer of what is 
p;oin<jj on around him, that dried u]-) s]:rin^■s in loncj 
droughtH just preceding- a change to rainy weather, ollen 
send forth largo volumes of water, so as not oidy to hwcH 
tho brooks, ])Ut to send living streams through dry 
ravines. What is the exjdanation of this fact ? Simply 
that since every rainstorm is ])receded by a low barome- 
ter, therefore tho air contained in closed cavities of rockp. 
when tho external pressure of the atmosphere is removo(i, 
expands, displaces and drives out a volume of water 
equal to its own increase of volume by expansion. 

The streams falling into this lake, are pereniual, and 
are filled with mountain trout; and the pasturage in their 
valleys is so rich that the Mexicans call them " /o.s vegas, " 
tho meadows. 

Altitude, latitude and moreover being surrounded and 
hemmed in on all sides b}' lofly mountains, jointly h.ave a 
modifying elTect upon the climate of San l.uis Park. It 
{» exhilarating and bracing, yet liuld and equable. No 
extremes of either heat or cold are experienced tlie year 
round. All tlie cereals, excepting corn, yiehl abundant 
harvests; and as a stock-raising country, it is not sur- 
passed in tho world. 

It is a singular fact that on tho Plains, near the Moun- 
tains at La Porte and Boulder, though one and a half to 
two degrees farther north, and neai'ly of the same eleva- 
tion, tho wheat harvest is from five to .six weeks earlier 
than in San Luis Park. Prof. ITayden, in 18G9, found 
them in the midst of harvest at Boulder on August 5th, 
while on the 21st of September they had not yet finished 
it in San Luis Park. Above Santa Fe and in the Taos 
Valley, though lown-r than Bouldei-, he found, the .same 



1S2 OVER THE PLAINS AND ON TUB iMOUNTAINS. 

year, the liarvest fully four Avceks later. Here is a prob- 
lem for physicists to solve, from as yet unknown factors. 
iSan Luis Park contains about 12,000,000 acres of arable 
land, ily early and esteemed frien<l, Ex-Governor Gilpin, 
owns, or did own, a little over one-sixth of it, or about 
2,-50,000 acres, ac(|uii'('(l by i)urehasinu; 8j)anish and Mex- 
ican concessions. r>einu" down at bis residence in the 
Parle, whither I did not u'o, I did not see him Avhile in 
Colorado. Jiunior said, (and it is so ])iiblished in the 
Colorado Gazetteer, of 1)^71 j that he had disposed of a ])art 
of liis interest to some Eni;-lish cajjitalists, for S2,.)00,000. 
He was then engaged in settling colonists on his estate, 
but 1 learned nothing of the princi])h's einlxxlied in his 
colonial scheme. 

AVhilc these ]>ages were going through the ])i-ess, 1 met 
him on his way to the Eastern cities. I learned from him 
that the narrow gauge railroad l)uilding from i)enver to 
Santa Fe, and already completed beyond the mouth of the 
canvon of the Arktinsas, Avill be completol to San Luis 
Park bv Xovember, 1!"m2; and that there are yet millions 
of acres of vacant ])ul)lic land in the Park sul)ject to settle- 
ment either by homestead pre-emption, or entry, and that 
there is an abinidance of water for ii-rigation. As I am 
under a ]n"omise to pay him a visit when next I go to Col- 
orado, I nuiv hereailer more specifically describe this 
Park. In the meanwhile let no one who visits Colorado 
with a view of settlement in agricultural ])ursuits, espcci- 
allv stock-raising, fail to examine the adaptation and 
capability of this Park for his pur])Oses. There is wo 
lack of precious metals in the surrounding mountains, but 
they have as yet received no development. 

These parks are indentations or bowls formed by the 
upheaval of ignous mattei- which has formed rims around 
the enclosed, elevated talde-lands or mesai^, as the Span- 
iards say. These plateaux arc not only the culminating 
point of the Kocky ^Mountain chain, but the apex of the 
Continent. Each is an independent watershed, having its 



OVER THE PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 183 

■own s^'stcm of springs and fonntains They do not com- 
mingle their collected tribute with those of any other, but 
they send their waters in ojiposite directions to the lour 
cardinal points of the compass and to different oceans. 

The Indian name for these parks signified "cow-lodges" 
or "bull-pens" on account of the immense herds of buffa- 
loes with which they abounded. The Canadian French 
trappers, the first intruders into these mountain recesses, 
for the same reason called them "pares," which in French 
signifies an enclosed jiasturc. The buffiilo which then 
constituted the greater part of the animals in these enclosed 
pastures, have now disappeared; and the elk, deer, moun- 
tain sheep and antelopes, are rapidly diminishing in num- 
bers. Not many years therefore will elapse before the 
name of parlc will be a misnomer. The name is also aj)- 
plied, all through the mountains, to little openings »or 
glades on the borders of mountain strcains, which is a to- 
tal perversion of the term. In our language the term park, 
is exclusively applied to an enclosure for holding Avild 
animals of the chase. When the buffalo roamed here and 
filled these mountain glades enclosed and shut in by moun- 
tain walls, the term was both appropriate and descriptive, 
and we might add poetical. But the onward march of 
civilization, in this as in man}' other cases, is SAveeping 
into oblivion the facts that made names pertinent, thus 
leaving coming generations to Avonder that there ever 
■ could have been such misapplications of names. 

These park regions in numy respects resemble Switzer- 
land and the Alps; and the resemblance would be com- 
2)lete if glaciers existed in them. Those Avho have been to 
Italy as well as to these mountains, say that the most ini- 
pressive view of the Alps from the Italian side, is from the 
banks of the Po, above Milan, across the plains of Lom- 
bard}' ; and that the view of the Rocky Mountains from 
the Plains, say twenty miles east of Denver, has much 
similarity to it but is the more imposing of the two IleiM 
you have in one view, the towering masses of Long's and 



184 OVKa THE PLAIN.S AND ON TUB MOUNTAINS. 

Pike'.s Peak an termini of a cocks-combed in*egular snowy 
curtain, 1-15 miles lon<^ connecting thoni, which in length 
and massivcncsB har^ no analogue any where in the Alps, 
Tho great Plains wtretching up and lying against the moun- 
tain wall, has alno vaster proportions than the plains of 
Lombardy : while the immense mountain wall in sight, 250 
miles in length, stretching North and South in the west- 
ern horizon, is a view without a parallel along tho base of 
tho Alps. 

Tho mountains of tho western rim of Middle Park, 
Bomotimes called the Blue Kiver Mountains, have ho im- 
pressed travelers w'ith their similarity to the Al])s as seen 
from Southern (rermany, tliat they never fail to recognize 
their resembranco to tho Helvetian Mount;iins, and have 
prpposed that name for tho range. 

These bowl, or saucer shaped table-lands, collect the 
waters from all points of tho compass that issue from un- 
derneath the pt^rpetual stiows and i(^ of their mountain 
rim. Tlie causes that farmed these larger basins, formed 
alao many smaller ones between lower hills or mountai-ns. 
Those minor basins in many instances are rosci'voirs where- 
tho water collects, forming numerous lakes of greater or 
loss extent. Though in size they will not compare with 
the lakes of Switzerland ; yet the torrents of ice water by 
which they are f m1, dashing through chasms and over rocky 
precipices form r>i:iny c.xsciidos, which for beauty and tho 
wild S!;enery surrounding them, are unsurpassed by the 
cascades of the Alp-i. TIis; cocks-combed serraturo of the 
encircling Snowy ll'ing(> is not surpassed by any view of 
tho Snowy Alps. 

Before closing let us take a brief review of the attrac- 
tions and inducements held out not by these parks alone,, 
but by tho whole mountain syst<uu of this region, to those 
seeking health, relaxation, or j)lcasure. We lake for grant- 
ed, that the enfeebled invalid, tho caro-woni man of busi- 
ness, the overtasked artizan, the enervated student, and the 
eurious pleasure seeker, ne<xi more than mere relaxation 



OVER THE PLAINS AND OS THE MOUNTAINS. 18.7 

and inano recreation. They want something to break up 
tho routine of thought to which their daily pur.suit.s neces- 
earily, in a measure restrict them; and to open up new and 
wider channels for tho flow of the mind. With relaxation 
from their treadmill drudgery, they want 7-ecreation to ele- 
vato their tastes and sentiments, and to enlarge their range 
of thought. In a word the}' want recreations as diverse as 
thoir tastes and as their mental capacities. Variety, gran- 
deur and sublimity of scenery, are all essential elements 
of recreation and enjoyment, but they do not meet every 
requisite. They suffice to those of a romantic turn of mind 
for subjects of revery and day-dreaming ; and to the poet 
for inspiring themes for verse. To all admirers of Nature's 
handiwork they afford the most pleasurable emotions 
and the highest order of enjoyment. In other words they 
speak to tho poetic element which is the common patrimo- 
ny of tho human race, and awaken that exaltation of mind 
which is tho etfoct of inspiration. But tho real is also as 
importantand as irrepressible an element of human nature 
as tho ideal. Man desires not alone to feel, but t(^ think ;. 
not only to imagine, but he wants to know. The foun- 
tains of knowledge must therefore be as free and flow as 
oopioush'' as tho fountains to induce feeling and inspira- 
tion, or ho foils in the attainment of the highest enjoyment 
as an intellectual being. 

Thoro is no region of the globe where these requirements 
aro moro completely met, than in those matchless moun- 
tains. In juxtaposition with tho wildest and grandest 
flcenery in tho world, is every geologic formation, and 
every mineral and metal known to science. Hero if any- 
where is the plain and legible recoi'd of tho mysterious 
processes by whicli the inhabitable globe has been elabor- 
ated. Hero is a lithological record, which contains the 
history and describes the character of each epoch that su- 
pervened in the Past, and engraven in stone aro the gro- 
tOvSquo and unique forms of vegetables and animals that 
appeared with, lived thi'ough, and perished, with the epoch 



1S6 OVER THE PLAINS AND OX THE MOUNTAINS. 

ihat t^iivc tbeiu birth. Here is impressed in indelible 
chiirnclers upon the stern feiiturcs of these mountains the 
omnipotent cner<^y of tlu^ Physieiil Forces as they mani- 
lested themselves in the earlier history of the globe. What 
an immense field for cx])loration is here opened, (re- 
ology, litholoi;y, melalhir^y, ])aleontology, meteorology, 
])Otany, in fact every branch oi*'Physical Science finds here 
copious stores of materials, not only for their study but 
I'or their enlargement. To those f>f scientillc tastes, and to 
men of science, no ])art of the globe offers richer stores, 
holds out stronger inducements and affords greater oppor- 
tunities for collecting specimens for their particular bx-anch- 
<2s: nor more agreeable ])astime and diversion than to turn 
•over the pages of this immense and new volume, and stud\-- 
inir the histories it embodies. 



OVER THE PLAINS AND OX THE iMOUNTAINS. lf)7 



CIIAPTEPc XVI. 

All tlie pleasures and oiijoynienls of traveling flow 
from the gratification of the eye. When beautiful, 
wonderful and sublime objects are presented to the eye 
the attributes of those objects powerfully affect the sensi- 
bility, giving rise 8])ontaneously to exalted and pleasur- 
able emotions, that may carry the mind to the highest 
pitch of enthusiasm. But Avhilc a view of many objects 
afford ])leasui'e to the highest degree, but few of them in- 
spire enthusiasm. Tlieji again we arc differently affected 
by the same object according to the standi)oint from which 
we regard it. For instance, our point of obscrvationmay 
be the top of n high building, the ])oint of a pinnacle, the 
top of a tower, or the summit of a mountain. The pleas- 
urable emotions that arise in this case, spring from the ex- 
tended view and the number and variety of the objects 
seen. All of these objects when taken singly, maybe in- 
capable of ins])iring any emotion whatever, yet when 
taken in by a single glance, afford the highest kind of 
jjleasure. It is the view that affects us rather than the 
form and character of the multiplicity of objects that 
• compose it. A vleio however is incapable of awakening 
enthusiasm in its highest sense. We generally call views 
beautiful, grand, and even magnificent, but never sublime. 
Again, our standpoint may be at the head of a lane, in the 
opening of a row of trees, or we may look down length- 
Aviso between tho two sides of a mountain gorge, and we 
anay call the vista beautiful or charming, but never mag- 
nificent, much less sublime. Tho emotions excited by fine 
vistas, though highly pleasurable, are not even of so ex- 



188 OVER THE PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 

altcd a chanictor as tho.so arising from a <^rand and nitjg- 
nifiociit view. ' 

Filially, our htandpoint may bo, in fi-ont of a splendid 
building, at tho bottom of Niagara, in the abyss of a 
monntaiu chasni, or at the foot of a preci])itous, (Taggy, 
cliff overhung bv topi)ling rocks, and crowned b}^ moun- 
tain pines; then in looking up, we are smitten with wonder, 
awe and astoniKhment. We had seen the same objects at 
a distance; they then were component pai'ts of our views 
and vitstas, and as such merely objects that filled up points 
in the more or less extended space in siglit. AVe hardly 
regarded even their f)rms, much less their attributes. But 
now we are regarding them singly. AVe then only saw 
enough of thorn to perctMve they were trees, houses, cliffs, 
(•"ascades, pi'eci])iccs or mountains, but we now see that 
they are extraordinary trees, houses, elite's, ])reeipices, etc. 
Then we saw no attributes except such onh- as enabled us 
to cla'^sify them ; now we see nothing but atti'ibutes. AVe 
now see they have beaut}", symmetry, harmony, vastness, 
grandeur in all grades uj) to the highest degree of sublim- 
ity. These fix the gaze and rivet the attention; a glow 
darts through our veins, the imagination is set on fire and 
enthusiasm is awakened; and then if uudci- the influence 
of their iiis])iration we attempt to give uttei-ance to our 
feelings we call the S((jht beautiful, gi-and, magnificent, 
sublime. 

To meet fully the demands of the traveler the country 
visited must possess objects and scenery tbat will afford 
all of these three sources of pleasui-able emotions; namely, 
l^eautiful and charming t'i-stas, grand and magnificent rzVjr.', 
and grand, stupendous, magnificent and sublime flights. 

Of late years traveling has degenerated almost ex- 
clusively into sight-seeing of the lowest order. Our citi- 
zens visit the large towns and cities of our own and of 
foreign lands, which have more fame for being dens of 
iniquity and infamy, than for affording sublime and iiLspir- 
ing sights. The rich, large, munificent and splendid 



OVER THE 1'L.irNS AND ON THK MOUNTAINS. 199 

i'hk.s of continental Europe especially, seem to have 
])arti(;ular attraction to those having the desire and the 
means to see the World; hj which they understand the 
manners, customs, habits and vices even of man. As for 
Hublime sights, they believe they have seen everything 
worth seeing, when they have looked at, although they 
may not have taste enough to admire, the most famous 
specimens of architecture in the world. 

The ancienta had seven wonders: 1st. The statue of 
the Sun, at Rhodes; 2d. The Mausoleum of the King of 
Caria; 3d. The statue of Jupiter, by Phidias; 4th. The 
Temple of Diana, at Ejjhesus; 5th. The Avails and han''- 
ing gardens of Bab3'lon ; 6th. The Py i-amids of Egypt; 
and, 7th. The Palace of Cyrus, the younger; these were 
what they called the seven wonders of the "World, and, as 
is seen, every one of them was the work of human hands. 
It is, therefore, an ancient idea, that the great, the grand, 
ihQ beautiful and sublime, must be sought in the works of 
Man. Which are the greater ancl more sublime, the works 
of Nature or the^ works of Man, is not even admis.sil)le 
as a question; for it has been truly said, "Man made the 
city, but God made the country." In the cities, Man has 
built St. Pauls and St. Peters, the Louvre, the Tuillicrioii 
Sans Souci, arches, columns and domes; but Nature built 
Niagara, the Al]>s and the Andes, the cliff, the gorge and 
the abyssimal chasm. Of Man's Avorks we have loss in 
this country than there is elsewhere, but of Nature's more. 
Not only more, but of a higher order, and of a unique 
type. They have only to be kuown to be appreciated; 
not only by us, but by the World. 

Were I called u})on to designate the country having the 
most beautiful and the greatest variety of scenery, and in 
its greatest perfection all the elements of grandeur, mag- 
nificence and suljlimity, I would unhesitatingly name 
Colorado. 

Lately it has become fashionable for tourists to visit tho 
White Mountains, and asc«nd to the top of Mount Wash- 



190 OVER THE PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 

ingto'.i ; and when they return, they tell us they have beem 
above the clouds. Why, any of the towns of Colorado, on 
the Plains along the flank of the Rocky Mountains, are as 
high above the sea as the top of Mount Washington ; 
while those on the mountains are from three to four thou- 
sand feet higher. As for sights, go to the bottom of one of 
those awful chasms that seam the great Cordilleras in all 
directions, and look up the side of the cleft mountain 
that lifts its rocky escarpment to the clouds. How utterly 
insignificant is anything man has done, or can do, Avhen 
compared with this cj'clopean Avork of Nature ! 

Everywhere, in threading the labyrinthine mazes of the 
mountain canyons, these overhanging, cloudcapped and 
oftentimes beetling cliffs are met wiih But foremost 
amongst these stands Boulder Canyon, unequaled either 
in these remarkable mountains or in the world, for the va- 
riety, grandeur and sublimity of its scenery. Its only pos- 
sible rival is the Yosemiie Yalley of California. But the 
Yoscmite is a spectacle of a diff'erent order It is a valley 
quiet in all its aspects ; the very embodiment of tranquility,, 
if we except the Bridal Yell and the cascade of the main 
source of the Merced, pouring themselves into the head of 
the valley from under the everlasting snows anrl ice of the 
Sierra Nevada. But the Merced itself flows through the 
valley so gently that it scarcely shows a ripple upon its tran- 
quil bosom. It even forms a calm lake in the centre, which 
is scarcely ever ruffled by a passing breeze. This lake is 
hedged in on all sides by lofty spruce, and the whole en- 
closed by a loftier wall of smooth weather-worn rocks. 
On this wall, said to be from 3,000 to 4,000 feet in height,, 
rise high, huge and bald battlements of giganitc rocks,. 
named respectively, the Half Dome, the Dome, the Three 
Brothers, etc. All these have been eroded by the elements 
until they appear as though the waves of the sea had. 
rolled over them for myriads of years and efiiiced every 
angular vestige. The Half Dome, however, appears as if, . 
at u more recent period, one half of it had dropped in the •■ 



OVER THE PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 191 

abyss below, and consequently ou that side has a sharp 
angle. The Three Brothers are a beetling eliff fVom 
Avhieh jut three immense rocks, looking as though three 
huge hexagonal crystals were superimposed one above the 
other, with their points directed horizontally towards the 
valley. Though the Yosemito has an exhuberant growth 
of spruce within it, yet the mountain wall and the countr)^ 
surrounding it are entirely bare. No sign of vegetation 
is to be seen on it; and therefore its smoothness, combined 
with the utter sterility surrounding it, give it an exceed- 
ing tame and commonplace appearance. In fact the whole 
environment of the valley looks as though desolation had 
swept over the region and had blasted and annihilated all 
vegetal life, except what is enclosed in this secluded little 
dell, two miles long, and half a mile wide. The surround- 
ings therefore have a dreariness and monotonj' that are 
absolutely painful, and the valley, or more properly dell, 
taken as a whole, fliils to affect and impress the senses 
vividly. 

Not so, however, with Boulder Canyon. Its walls arc 
as steep and high as those of the Yosemite, yet they are 
not bleak, bare, smooth and sterile, but for fifteen miles 
are fearfully wild, rough, bold, angular and grand, with 
their sides clothed, and their summits crowned with ever- 
green shrubs and trees. Its Avaters arc not a calm lake 
nor an unruffled stream, but a milk-white, dashing, roaring 
mountain river, rushmg through a rocky gorge often hav- 
ing a descent exceeding five hundred feet to the mile. In 
density of thicket and number of trees at any one point, 
it cannot be compared with the Yosemite, but in size it can, 
for it has trees four feet in diameter and upwards of two 
hundred feet high. The Falls of the North Boulder can- 
not be compared with the Bridal Veil, but the whole river 
is a continuous cascade which immensely enhances the 
Tvildness of the scenery and stamps its impress on the 
mind. The Yosemite and the Canyon are therefore spec- 
tacles of entirely different orders. As already stated, one 



10*2 OVER TJIE PLAINS AND ON THE MOLNTAINS. 

is the iinpei*sonaiion of repose and tranquility, tho other, 
that of restlessness and intense uftivity. These two 
orders must impress the mind witli different feelings and 
emotions. Inspiration always conies from witliout. We 
drink in the very s])irit of tl-.o objects we bcliold and eon- 
template. If it be a quiet scene, howevtu" beautiful and 
grand it may be, the spirit that pervades it will instiintly 
evoke is counterpart in our own bosoms. If it be wild, 
violent and turbulent as well as grand, beautiful and 
sublime, our emotions will be of tho same order. 

For exciting intensity of feeling, wild and turbulent 
passions and overwhelming emotions, Boulder canyon 
must have an incontestiblo superiority over the Yosoraito 
Valley. 

To give relaxation to the mind and variety to the eye, 
beautiful and charming vistas are essential. It lias been 
asserted that the Rocky Mountains, unlike the Alps, do 
not afford them. I must contest this assertion. If tliere 
is a more beautiful vista than that to bo seen in Boulder 
canyon, near the narrows, Avhere you look out from under 
ii canopy of immense spruce trees, and up the gorge, down 
■which rolls a foaming torrent, enclosed by perpendicular 
walls, and see at about a hundred rods distant a transverse 
mountain many thousand feet high, forming an apparent 
cul de sac, then I have not heard of it, nor seen it describ- 
ed. Then again there are the many mountain lakoa, 
eometimes nearly cncii'ck^d by perjiendicular or over- 
hanging precipices, at others surrounded by a forest of 
picturesque, tall and tapering fir trees. If a look through 
dense groves of tall evergreens an<l across, or up the lake 
walled in by a rocky escarpment, a thousand feet high, or 
hedged around by an evergreen forest, is not a charming 
vista, then I do not understand what is meant by that term. 
Again you can take 3'our stand at the head of a narrow 
vale. The mountains that form its sides are fir-clad, steep, 
rugged and impassible, confining the view to a single 
point down the dell. It widens out somewhat as it de- 



OVER THE PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 193 

scends, but curves round to tlie right or left and is finally 
cut off from view by the mountain wall on that side. But 
as it curves, you see mountain after mountain terminating 
on it endwise, like huge folds of a garment, until finally 
over the vanishing point dominates a state!}', majestic 
cone, rising rhan}^ hundred feet above the surrounding 
peaks. Surely if this is not a lovely vista of unsurpassed 
beaut}', then t-ell me what constitutes such. 'Now such 
scenes as here described, are constantly t<:) be met with by 
those who ramble over these mountains, or while thread- 
ing and exploring their interminable gorges and chasms. 
He who cannot discover them, or enjoy them without 
boi-rowed enthusiasm, had better remain at home, for he 
will cull by traveling vcr}- little knowledge, either useful 
or pleasurable to liimsclf, or that will tend to enlighten 
the world. 

The trouble hoAvever is not the absence of vistas, but 
that some person of taste, genius and imagination, and an 
enthusiastic admiration ofXature, has not preceded these 
befogged tourists, and discovered and described them. 
Had there been, theii it would be fashionable to follow in 
his footsteps, going wherever he went, and admiring, too, 
whatever he admired; f)r if they did not, it woidd bo ev- 
ident that these bell-weather-lcd tourists were peojile 
without any taste. 

As for views, the most captious admit that they are not 
only numerou'', but grand, varied, and man}'^ of them 
magnificent. There is scarcely an elevated point on the 
plains or mountains, frona which a splendid view cannot 
be obtained. Tliis is my experience, as will be seen by 
the p'-iru-^al of those pages, yet I asceiulod none of the 
highest peaks, found only in the Snowy IJange. I found 
the ]ieaks near the edge of the Plains give the most varied 
and therefore most charming views. It appears to you as 
though the cone on which you stand were a mere high 
hill on a vast table-land constituting the mountain, while 
around you rise similar pine-clad peaks northward and 
13 " 



194 OVER THE I>L.\1NS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 

Bouthward as flir as the eyo can reach, and Avestward also, 
until they culminate in the bald Snowy Itange. J'lastward, 
almost at your feet, lies the Plain, drained by the South 
Platte and its affluents. Beyond the Platto is the Denver 
Pacific railroad to Cheyenne, upon which are seen trains 
going in opposite directions; and beyond that to the boun- 
dary of the horizon, a hundred or more miles of tho 
mythical "Great American Desert" are in sight. Tho 
eye follows with pleasure the Platte and its affluents, by 
the silvciy sheen of their waters, marked out also by a 
straggling row of cottonwood. Tho basin of tho Platto is 
diversified by towns, villages, hamlets, farms and ranches. 
On the uncultivated Plain, thousands of cattle are seen 
grazing. The irrigating canals are even visible, stretch- 
ing out through the characteristic bluish gray of tho 
Plains, to the wheat and cornfields that fleck and diver- 
Hify it with ])at(:he.s of deep green. Such a view there is 
near Golden City, which I have already described, and 
such viewH there are in tho vicinity of Boulder, aiid I pre- 
sume anywhere on the high peaks along the Plains. 
Between tho Middle and North Boulder, some two miles 
below Castlo Eock, there is a high peak, which Mr. Bar- 
nabas Smith, one of my compagnons de voyage ascended, 
which he thinks must have been tho iFount of Tempta- 
tion, so beautiful, grand, rich and extensive is the view 
from it. At least, he thinks that if the Devil owned and 
could show a good title to all that Ciin be seen from it, it 
wo\dd be a tem])ling l)ait to mammon-loving souls, if 
offered as a bounty for enlistment in his service. It is too 
far interior to see the settlements immediately along 
tho foot of the mountain, but Denver, Valmonl, Erie, 
Burlington, Longmont, Evans and Greeley, are all in 
sight, while the course of the Platte, from above Denver 
to far below Greeley is seen glittering in tho sun, and 
marked out by the lino of cottonwood trees. J>e- 
yond it aro tho great Plains, unbroken, except by tho 
railroad near tho river margin, on which aro seen tho 



OVER THE PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 195 

passing trains. Between the foot of the nicjuntaiii.s and 
the Platto, the plain is seamed as if by silver threads, by 
the two Boulders, Left Hand Creek, St. Yrain Fork, Big 
and Little Thompson and the Cache-a-la-Poudre, all moun- 
tain torrents, draining the Cordilleras east of the Snowy 
Range; and their margins lined by villages, farms and 
ranches to their junction with the Platte. 

Immediately north, and at a distance of about two 
miles, rises Sugar Loaf Mountain to nearly a thousand 
feet higher than this point. Farther north and west, at a 
distance of some 25 miles, is the Babbit Ears, a double 
peaked cone; and to the northwest, at the distance of 
thirf-ty miles, is Long's Peak, rising to an altitude of 14,300 
feet, and covered with j)erpetual snow. West lie the un- 
broken but serrated Snowy Range. The view from 
Sugar Loaf is still more extended, and that from Long's 
Peak is said to be inconceivably grand. 

The vicinity of the Boulder and Sugar Loaf Mountain 
■would bo very attractive to tourists, if there were a hotel 
there. The waters of the two Boulders, Four Mills and 
J.eft hand creeks are tilled with inountain trout, and in the 
heavily timbered district around about are mountain 
grouse, blacktailed deer, elk, mountain sheep, and occa- 
sionally a cinnamon bear. Old grizzh-, it is said, has left 
these parts in disgust. 

James' Peak in the Snowy Range at the Boulder Pass 
into Middle Park, and Gray's Peak further south in the 
same range and west of Georgetown, are well known points 
and much atfected by tourists for the fine views from their 
summits. Farther to the southwest and on the northern 
line of the South Park, stands the Titan of the Cordilleras, 
Mount Lincoln, said to be over 17000 feet above the sea. 
Being more remote and in a less frequented part of the 
mountains it is not so well known and appi'cciated as it 
deserves to be. However, from the difficulty of ascending 
it without a guide, and the Alarch-like cold and wind al- 



196 OVER THE PKAIXS AND 0\ THE .MOUXTAINS. 

"\v:iys on its sunmiit, prevailing; uvea in mid Suiiiiuer, it 
will never become so popular as other peaks. 

The whole of Mount Lincoln is auriferous and argentif- 
erous, and many rich lodes both of gold and silver are 
•worked on its sides. From the base a road has been con- 
structed a mile and a half long up to the edge of the tim- 
ber line for hauling quartz, which is obtained Irom a lode 
nearly 12000 feet above the sea. Several thousand feet 
above this is a rich silver lode, the ore of which is packed 
on jackasses and carried down to the entl of the roa<l. 
From the end of the road several trails can be followed; 
some steeper, more rugged and difficult than others. Hence 
the necessity of a guide, or of being accompanied by some 
one familiar Avith the mountain. One the more difficult, 
but shorter, is up through a valley extending from the 
"timber line " to an abruj^t precipice. This valley is from 
an eighth to a half a mile wide, has a stream of ice water 
flowing down it, and has several ponds or small lakes in it. 
From where the valley terminates it is two miles to the 
summit with an incline of forty five degrees covered with 
loose pebbles, shells and rocks which make the footing 
very difficult and insecure. However by laborious effort 
and persevering climbing with frequent pauses to rest, 
necessitated by the rarity of the atmosphere at this great 
altitude, the summit is finally reached. The more popular 
route however is to ascend a ridge running East from the 
summit of the mountain. By this route, the ascent can be 
made to within 800 feet of the to}) on horseback; then 
leaving the horses at an inimense snow bank, the remainder 
of the ascent can be made on foot up a steep acclivity. But 
having attained the summit the view is inexpressively mag- 
nificent. You have left the world and its din behind, and 
ascended far above all signs of life, cither animal or vegeta- 
ble. On every side, but far below you, are bleak, dreary, sul- 
len, stern and icy ])eaks. Colorado is sprea<l out at your feet 
(South Park sixty miles long and thirty wide, with its un- 
dulating hills, green meadows, glittering lakes and silver 



OVER THE PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 197 

sti'cams, is a incre speck on the vast panorama. You look 
over Long's PeaJc north almost into Dakota; to the west 
stretching towards the golden shores of the Pacific, you 
loolc over tlie plains of Utah, South over the Spanish 
Peaks into Xew Mexico. To the Southeast over Pike's 
Peak, into the valley of the Arkansas; and eastward be- 
yond the Cordilleras upwards of a hundred miles away, 
rise the bluish gra}' sea of the boundless Plains. 

The sources of Blue river i:i 3Iiddle Park which falls in- 
to Graiid Piver, an affluent of the Colorado of the West; 
and those of the Arkansas westward in a deep mountain 
canyon, are all in sight. The lake, frozen the year round, 
from Avhich issues the northern branch of the South Platte 
more than 13000 foet above the sea, seems so near though 
several miles away, that it appears as if a stone might be 
thrown into it from this summit. Though far outside of 
the usual route of travel, good accommodations and excel- 
lent fare can be had at the village of Montgomery at the 
northern base of the mountain. 

The numerous mountain lakes well stocked with speckled 
trout, are interesting objects to visit, both for the un- 
surpassing beauty of their scenery, and f )r the sport they 
afford to the disciples of Sir Isaac AValton. 

Golden Lake, in Boulder county, Green Lake, Avcst of 
Georgetown, and the Chicago Lakes, in Clear Creek 
county, all lie in convenient distances on the usual route 
of travel and are easily accessible. In fact, in every part 
of the Mountains and in the great Parks, these lakes are 
found. 

"When satiated with mountain scenery, let the tourist 
descend to the elevated plateau that runs out eastward 
into the Plains from Pike's Peak, for nearlj' one hundred 
miles. It is well covered Avith pine, mostly the Fimis 2^)011- 
(lerosa, and is called the "Divide," since it separates the 
waters flowing north into the Platte from those flowing 
south into the Arkansas. It has many springs and from 
its sides issue Plum Creek, Punning Water, Cherry, Kiowa, 



lOS OVF.li TIIK ri,AIN\S AM) O.V TIIK .MOT N'T A INS. 

Bijou, Co3'oto and other creeks that flow into the IMutto J 
and Big Sandy, Monument, Fontaine qui buille, Camp 

and otlier creeks flow into tlie Arkansas. In fact, the 
Smoky Hill, Solomon, Salina and even tlie Tiepublican 
forks of the Kaw, have their sources in its eastern flank. 
It is the Paradise of ranch-men and farniiM-s ; and is 
already comparatively thickly settled. It is an Arcadia of 
beauty and tranquility which will enchant the admirer of 
a rural landscape, "vvhile its geological formation has a 
peculiar interest to the scientist as Avell as to the curiosity 
seeker. Those, so called, monuments abound in more or 
less trequency through its whole extent from the foot of 
the mountains to its most eastern ilank on the Plains. 
But they are especially abundant in certain localities. 
Monument (Jreek, has been appropriateh' named bo for 
the number of these eroded stones standing in its basin, 
especially at one point. This is one of the most curious 
and singular spectacles that can 1)6 found in the world. It 
consists of yellowish, white sandstones, composed of strata 
diflFering considerably in hardness. Under the erosive 
action of tho elements, the HoiXar strata have disintegrated 
more rapidly than the harder. Consequently these shafts 
or columns exhibit every variety of ]ihanta8tic forms. At 
some points worn very slender, at olhci-s leaving large 
protuberances; it requires but little aid from the imagina- 
tion to see, or to fancy you see, in some immense folds of 
drapery hanging iVom what may be taken as the shoulder 
of a gigantic statue ; and in others the bare chest, or tho 
outstretched ai-m of an Indian brave. In fact, there is no 
limit to likenesses or supposed lilcenesses tlu^ fancy may 
conceive and the imagination form, wliile loolcing at this 
singular spectacle. For instance: a towering triangular 
one about thirty feet high, has been imagined to resemble 
Washington; aiid as the to]) of it, having withstood the 
action of the elements better tha!\ the sotter ,^fr<(ia below, 
gives it a number of angular projections not unlike a 
three-cocked hat, tho resemblance is conceived to bo com- 



OYER THE PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 199 

plete ; and as it is also surrounded by a group of lesser 
columns, those have been imagined to represent his staff. 
ITenee the whole group is fancied to represent General 
Washington holding a council of M'ur, and it has been 
named so accordingly. Another has been imagined to 
represent an Indian chief with his arm extended, and his 
blanket falling in folds from his shoulder; and another as 
an Indian maiden. Though tliere are many spots where 
these singular columns are found alone and in groups, yet. 
on account of the number found at this one point, in the 
midst of a large grove of ])inc tree ;, it haw been called 
Monument Park. 

Nea,r Colorado City, on the Creek, named by the French 
traders, Fontaine qui Bailie ( that is the Boiling Fountain, 
becauso it ris4>s in four eftervescent soda springs Avhose 
constant bubbling give the water the appearance of boil- 
ing violently), there arc what are called the Gardens of 
the Gods. The larger, called the First Garden of the 
Gods, is an enclosed area of six or seven miles long and 
from a few rods to a quarter of a mile wide. The en- 
closing rock is composed of various strata, but its predom- 
inant one is red sedimentary sandstone of a brick color. 
The onteranco has a gate-like appearance of perpendicular 
rocks two hundred feet high, and the wall generally is 
from 200 to 275 feet high, having an inclination of a few 
degrees from the perpendicular, but at places actually 
leaning over from five to ten degrees. As at the proper 
ficason this little dell is a continuous, glaring and gaudy 
floral plot, all the richly colored wild flowers indigenous 
to this region being foxmd in it, it has been very a])pro- 
priately named the Garden of the Gods. 

About for miles northwest of Colorado City is the 
second Garden of the Gods, through which flows Camp 
Creek. Its gateway is through a passage cut by the creek 
at right angles to the ridge. In this enclosure there is 
«aid to bo a fine echo. 

This must suffice for the present, not because the subject 



200 OVKR TIIK PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 

is exhausted but because if we entered into a eoni})letG 
detail of all the sublime and wonderful scenery of this 
mountain region this narrative would be drawn out to an 
almost interminable length. I have shown enough to 
make it ineontestible that Colorado possesses in the liighest 
degree, every requisite to meet the demands of the touristy 
and is deserving of their attention, before thinking of 
iXoinjjc abroad 



OVER TIIK I'L-^i^a ANi> ON TnE MOUNTAINS. 201 



CHAPTER XVII. 

Colorado in its early history was the theatre of stirring 
scenes, such as marked the early settlement of but few in- 
cipient States; and which are not excelled, if equaled, in 
thrilling interest by those of any Terrritorj' in the Union. 
Originally included within the geographical limits of 
Kansas, yet so wild and remote that it was visited only by 
a few daring trappers and traders. Its nominal inclusion 
within the jurisdiction of Kansas Avas regarded as a mere 
empty form ; for it was not supposed that tlie Tei-ritorial 
government of Kansas could exercise any sl\ow of au- 
thority in this remote region; or that even the General 
Government would find it possible, if necessary, to do 
more than to keep the roving tribes of savages some- 
what in check, and to restrict them to desirable limits. 

But when tlie "Pike's Peak fever" l)roke out, gold 
luiriters, and, consequently gamblers, desi^eradoes and 
almost every kind of desperate adventurers flocked to 
this supposed Eldorado: the former to seek gold; and 
the latter to look for chances to plunder with impunity; 
in many instances they being fugitives fi'om justice ia the 
States. 

The miners spread themselves in lone camps i'nv hundreds 
of miles along the eastern flank of these mountains ; tempo- 
raril}' to i)rospcct and seai'ch for the precious metals, and to 
make permanent homes hei'e if their labors should ])rove 
successful. In the latter case mining villages soon sprung 
up, which became nuclei for concentrating and distribut- 
ing supplies; and consequently also the points for= ex- 
changing '' dust " by the fearless prospectors, who pushed 
tlieir exploration.s and search for gold into the most re- 



202 OVKK THK IT.AINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINH. 

mote liiitrodden -vvilds, and gloomy rcoewses of the moun- 
tains, Thcso villages noon were found to be infested with 
gamblers, out-throats and other desjieradocs, 80 that 
neither life nor property was safe. Lawlessness became 
so rife that even murder did not seek the obscurity of the 
night to perform and hide his deeds. Crime in all its hid- 
eous forms stalked aln-oad at noonday, bold and defiant. 
There was no government to restrain it, much less to pun- 
ish it. The law-abiding, industrious miner had either to 
flee the region, or to take the means of protection into 
his own hands. By men who had single-handed encoun- 
tered and van([uished the grizzly bear, and defied and 
kept at bay the wily, blood-thirsty savage, the idea of 
yielding ground to sneaking, cowardly thieves and assas- 
sins, could not be entertained, and therefore they deter- 
mined to expel them from the country. Amongst tho 
miners were many, good, true, bravo and resolute men, 
equal to any emergency that could arise. These soon de- 
vised and perfected an organization for mutual protection. 
They constituted theiTiselves the guar<linns both of tho 
public peace and safety, by devising, enacting and execu- 
ting sueh rales and laws as tho emergency required. 
These laws were enforced most rigorously through the 
"People's Courts." Life was demanded for life, and tho 
murderer had short shrift and summary punishment; 
other olTences and criminals Avere as summarily dealt with; 
and in a short time there was such a liegira of scoundrels 
from the mountains as was never witnessed anywhere bo- 
fore, nor since. Ijawlessness and crime had not only re- 
laxed their grasj) u|)on tho community, but let go their 
hold, and terror-stricken were fleeing from the presence of 
the avenger. Sinee then, now more than eleven year.H, 
the country has been iree from violence, and life and 
property as secure as anywhere, excejit as endangered by 
savage raids. The ])rominent actors in tliesc stirring 
times, now the most prominent citizens in their respective 
counties, are yet to be found everywhere, and you can hear 



OVER THE ri^AINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 208 

the thrilling narratives of these bloody scenes from their 
own lips. 

It was a stormy and gloomy time when, in 18G1, Col. 
"William Gilpin, the newly appointed and first Governor, 
arrived to organize the Territorial Government. Moro 
than one-half of the area of the cismontano portion of the 
Union was in open rebellion against the Federal authority. 
As a large portion of the population here was from tho 
Southern States, a division of sentiment based upon the 
-sectional line had taken place from the earliest period of the 
controversy. When the war broke out, the gathering 
tempest soon marshalled and concentrated its forces in 
this distant land, and the storm was about to burst in all 
its fury when the Governor arrived. Delay would have 
been dangerous, so he took prompt measures to organize 
the territorial government at once. It was a sad sight in 
a weak and defenseless community, remote from succor 
and surrounded by savage foes, to sec such fierce and 
irreconcilable dissentions. True, bravo and tried men 
who had stood firm as a rock, braving danger in all its 
forms, and acting together in case of necessity, like a 
solid phalanx not only against the wily and murderous 
savage, but the no less cruel and barbarous white outlaws 
and desperadoes, now had become divided into hostile 
factions and ready to engage in a conflict in which victory 
was not so much tho object, as extermination. One party 
was ready to dare and do anything that the infant colony 
might be offered up a sacrifice to the Moloch of Slavery, 
while tho other was just as determined and rcsoluto to 
sacrifice all their worldly possessions and life itself if neces- 
sary, to maintain tliis rich and beautiful land sacred to hu- 
man freedom and liberty. Collision was only prevented by 
the prompt, energetic and decisive measures taken by tho 
new Governor, being himself one of tho oldest residents 
of the mountains, and who, they all knew, v/as a daring, 
fearless, brave and resolute man. The crisis therefore 
passed without any serious disturbance; and the better 



204 OVKll THE PKAINS AND OX THE MOUNTAINS. 

and bravest portion of the soutlu'rn liurty either ac- 
quiesced in the established order of things iis determined 
by the majority, or instead of making it a neigliborhood 
warfare, toolc up the braver and more manly course, of re- 
turning to their respective States and entering the regular 
service of the Confederates. Xot so however with that 
part of them who beh)nged to what in the States wei-e 
styled th> "home sneaks," men too cowardly to fight, but 
malicKMis iiiid brutiil enoug!), in tlio ihirk or under cover, 
to act the nei<';hborlu)od assassin, these latter "went to 
Xew Mexico and Texas to organize military and maraud- 
ing expeditions against the de&nseless colony thinly 
scattered over these mountains or along their flanks on the 
Plains. But worse than all, some of these malignants 
vv^ent into the country of the wild Indians and excited 
them to hostilities, and thus brought upon this infant 
colon}' the merciless butcheries of a savage warfare. 

To thwart the machinations of these malevolent dis- 
contents. Governor (xilpin organized three regiments of 
volunteers, which did efficient service both at home 
against the Indians and in Xew Mexico in repelling and 
defeating the Texas military expedition. However the 
savages encouraged by ba<l Avhite tnen^ and emboldened 
by the apparent tardiness or iinpotency of the General 
Government to punish their cniaes, continued making 
their murderous foray's upon the mining camps of the 
inountains, or the agricultural settlements on the Plains; 
and committed the most shocking and revolting atrocities, 
during tlie entire war and for two years after, when they 
were summarily chastised both by the General (iovern- 
ment and by citizens of the Territory. Under such a state 
of things it is no wonder that the exasperation was great, 
and that when the hour and opportunity for taking ven- 
geance had arrived, it M'as executed summarily and relent- 
lessly 

My object is not here to give a narrative of these Indian 
atrocities, marked by the merciless batcherics of defense- 



OVER THE PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 205 

less woman and children, the desolation of homes and the 
extinguishment of entire families and settlements, these 
must be left to the historian and the romaneei', l)ut to 
give an insight into the causes and extent of these troubles, 
which at least pal hate if they do not justify the signal and 
decisive acts by which they were avenged, after having 
been endured for seven long j^ears. Go wherever you 
will at night either on the mountains to the camp-fires of 
the miner and prospector, or to the hamlet on the Plains, 
and 3"ou will there find plenty of actors in these stirring 
and tragic times, who will relate harrowing tales that 
warm to Avrath, or chill the blood by their horrors, all 
founded on facts, of the atrocities of the fiendish Utes, 
Apaches, Xavajos and Espinosas. The tears will roll 
down over their weatherbeaten faces, while they mourn- 
fully tell you of a noble, brave and beloved friend who in 
the dead of night with all his family perish under the 
fiendish onslought of the prowling savage. Another will 
tell 3^ou of a deai-, generous noble friend, an old trapper, 
explorer and miner who fell unknown where into an am- 
bush of the wily foe then lurking and swarming over the 
mountains and perished where his bones may yet be found 
nnburied. Then he will recount the stories of his many 
adventures, brave exploits and manly virtues concluding 
with a sigh, " ah, poor, poor fellow, it is a long time ago 
since he went over the range." 

Ask them what they know about the " Chivington," or 
as it 14 more generally known m the States, the " Sand 
Creek massacre," and the answer is : "I know all about it, 
for I was there. That has been stigmatized as a massaci-e 
and we have been ajudged as murderers by those who know 
nothing of the facts about our wrongs, nor of the outrage 
that led to it. We did our duty then, if ever, to ourselves, 
to humanit}^, our country to our God. You have been 
told in the States, these were peaceable and friendly Indi- 
ans. Peaceable and friendly indeed! Why there was not 
^ mining camp in the mountains, nor a town on the Plains 



206 OVER THE I'LAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 

where there were not daily brought the bodies of our- 
friends and neiglibors and sometimes the bodies of whole 
iamiiies, all gashed, scalped and chopped to pieces ; mur- 
dered in cold blood by these fiends, and our own homes 
pillaged, burnt and lofl desolate. We were impelled to 
take the remedy into our own hands, because the military 
officers were fond of the quaker method of dealing with 
the savages and refused us protection, while they seemed 
always ready to accord it to our murderers. Why, tbcse 
Indians had just made one of the most murderous and 
destructive forays into our settlements and were returning 
heavily laden with plunder to the friendly protection of 
Fort Lyon, when wo undertook that long winter march 
and surprised them almost under the guns of the Fort, 
and — Ah, well, they gave us no trouble after that! Now 
that 3'ou may know what kind of friendly Indians they 
were, we will tell you what we found and captured in their 
camp : Sugar, coffee, dry goods, whole boxes of boots and 
shoes, clothing, greenbacks and bills of lading showing 
that these were the plunder obtained from some trains 
which had been captured, and those in charge murdered,. 
a short time before on the Platte ; but worse tban that- 
we found female clothing all bloody, a partially worn 
lady's shoe, which evidently had been filled with blood,, 
and the scalps of white women and children dangling at 
their sides or decorating the shields of their braves!" I 
asked if there had not excesses heen committed on the 
occasion; that I had read that they had fired upon and 
killed the squaws after the men had either been killed or 
had fled '{ " That's true," was the answer. " But after the 
braves were killed or had Jled the squaws took up the fight 
with the fierceness of grizzly she-bears when fighting 
for their cubs. Now if our object had been to rid our- 
selves of old Grizzly, and he had quit the field, being too 
cowardly to fight, would we have been deterred from our 
purpose because the she-bear stood her ground ? Certainly 
not; nor would we in a fight with any other wild beasts,^ 



OVER THE Pr^\INS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 207 

for these Indians' blood-thirstyness aro worse than wild 
beasts! Eiit wo. only fontrht tliem as long as they fought 
UH. Why, wliat else could we do ? If we had run away 
from the squawp, or shown that we would not fight squaws, 
why they would have fought us with squaws ever after." 

Now I do not pretend to judge who was in the right 
and who in the wrong in that unhappy afiair. But this 
much is evident, there are two sides to that as well as to 
every other question. One side has told its story long 
ago, and if these men have been wronged and injustice 
done them, it is time that their version of the affair be 
heard. If we persist in prejudging the case against them, 
they can at least put their protest upon record, and bravely 
tell us to ^^ strike but hear." 

Whatever may be the true explanation of the affair, of 
one thing I am certain, that malicious revenge and wanton 
cruelty is foreign to the nature of every one, (and there 
were a good many of them,) that I met in the territory, 
who participated in it. They are quiet, peaceable and 
inoffensive men, enjoying the universal confidence and 
respect of their neighbors. Col. Chivington, the leader of 
the expedition, I did not meet, because I did not visit the 
immediate portion of the territory where he resides; but I 
understood he is a leading and influential citizen of his 
section, highly respected and loved by the people who 
have known him best and longest. 

Afterwards, in 1866, Kanihache, a Ute chief, murdered 
and plundered defenseless settlers and immigrants in the 
vicinity of Trinidad, in Las Animas count}^, in the south- 
eastern corner of the Territory, Emigrants to New 
Mexico and many defenseless settlers Avero pounced upon, 
murdered, their property plundered or burnt and their 
cattle and horses driven away. At first so little resistance 
was offered, that the savages become bolder, and followed 
their own inclinations to murder and plunder with im- 
punity. They even threatened to depopulate the entire 
region. Finally, Col. Anderson with a troop of cavalry 



208 OVER TIIK I'l-AINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 

from Fort Stevens, was sent to adjust the matter. In a 
confei-cnce with the chiefs, the Colonel at first used the 
Quaker argument of moral suasion; asking them to desist 
and to state their grievances and he would have them re- 
moved, and justice done in the matter. But they not only- 
declined positively to state their grievances, but defied 
him to punish them. Whereupon he used the sabre and 
Sharj^e rifle argument, gave them a terrible thrashing, 
killing most of their braves and driving the balance out 
of the country over the mountains. This affair and that 
at Sand Creek taught these savages that prowling over the 
territory, murdei-ing its defenceless inhabitants and stealing 
stock was no longer a pleasant pastime, but a dangerous 
exploit, and they have not much fondness f )r that kind of 
sport since. 

At these camp-fires you hear not only these stories of 
Indian wars and butcheries related, but also the exjiloits 
of the principle characters that took part in them. 

As might be expected Kit Carson is the hero of a great 
many of these camp-fire tales. The Bents, St. Train, 
Bill Williams, the Autobcas, Eoubideaux, in fact all the 
old mountainers, are central figures around which many 
tales of adventures and exploits are grounded. Carson 
was from Missouri ; and so I believe was the noble hearted 
and brave Bill AVilliams, long the terror of the wily Eed 
skin thieves and assassins. He was finall}^ ambushed and 
killed by them, in 18(30, near the " Dead Camp of Fre- 
mont," so called because of the disaster that befel the 
party of this brave explorer in 1849 on the San Juan 
Mountains. 

The Bents, St. Yrain and Boubideanx are from St. 
Louis. All this heroic band spent the vigor and prime of 
their lives in the danger and excitement of the border as 
trappers, traders and Indian fighters, and became the 
heroes of many exploits that will carry their names down to 
posterity. Being married to Mexican wives they finally 
settled in the southern part of the Territory on ranches, 



OVER THE PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 209 

and are leading a quiet and civil life. Xone ever went 
back to tlic States to live except Roubideaux who founded 
the city of St. Joseph, where he died a short time ago at 
an advanced age. Col. St. Yrain lives atToas, and of the 
"Autobeas," that is, Tom and Charley Tobin, Tom, lives 
on the Trenchera and Charlc}^ in the Valley of the Huer- 
fano, on ranches, extensively engaged in stock-raising. 

But the most conspicuous figure m this heroic group is 
Col. Pfeifer. Whenever not on the war path, "Old 
Pfeifer," as he is called, (his age however is not yet forty- 
five,) makes his home at Fort Garland, in San Louis Park, 
and Conejos. lie is a grave silent man, and loves to wander 
alone amid the scenes of his exploits, and the graves of 
his comrades. He came to the Far West in 1847, \vhen 
but a mere boy fresh from the military school of Stock- 
holm, Sweden, of which country he is a native, though of 
German descent. He soon became conspicuous for his 
coolness and daring, and early gained the distinction of a 
good and brave Indian fighter. In the whole series of 
long wars Avith the Camanches, Apaches, Utes and Nava- 
]0S, he bore a distinguished part. He was Lieutenant 
Colonel under General Kit Carson during the jS^avajo wars 
of 1863, 4, 5 and 6, which resulted in the surrender to a 
small volunteer force of 11,000 of the supercilious ma- 
rauders who called the Mexicans tneir herders ; and which 
resulted m the forced removal of their tribe from the San 
Juan country to the Basque Eodondo Military Ees- 
ervation. Many daring exploits and wild stories are re- 
lated of him; all of which are more or less actual occur- 
rences. He without exception is the bravest, most reckless 
and daring man in the country. At Santa Fe, on one 
occasion he wrapped a sercq^e around his head, and went 
into a store on fire, and brought out two kegs of powder 
already charred and blazing. At another time, with a 
knife in his right hand, he killed a grizzly bear that was 
chewing his left arm. Single handed he fought two Capote 
Indians, all the parties being ai'med with camp knives, and 
14 



210 OVKR TIIK PLAINS AND ON THK MOUNTAINS 

killed them both though badly Avounded himself. In a 
fight with the Apaches at his ranche, atthe Ojodel Muerte 
(that IS, the Sirring of the Dead), his wife and children 
were brutally massacred and ho besides helpless from 
wounds in both of his legs, had his body so riddled with 
balls and so cut into gashes that there was scarcely room 
for a iresh cut or another bullet hole. He however sur- 
vived, but ever since has been unhappy. Since then his 
only pleasure has been revenge. It was a sad day for the 
Apaches when they killed Old Pfeifer's famil^^ He now 
often takes lone trips into their country; is often absent 
for months, :iiid for a few days after his return seems 
pleased and satisfird. In a few weeks ho is off again with 
his horse and ti'usty rifle He is always accom])anied in 
the Apache country by half a dozen of wolves. Once ho 
said to a friend, "they like me. because they are lond of 
dead Indian and I feed them well." Kind hearted and 
gentle as he is .said to be in social life, his thirst for re- 
venge almost makes him the personification of Murder, as 
described in the '-Masque of Anarchy:" 

•' 1 iiK't ]Munlfr on Iho way, 
lie had a mask liku Caslloreagh, 
Verv .smootli ho hiokwl yet grim, 
Sevon blood-hounds followed him ; 
All were fat; and well they might 
Be in atlmirable plight* 
For one by one, and two by two, 
lie tossed them human liearts to chew 
Whieh from his wide cloak ho drew. " 

The main incident in this narrative reminds mo of a 
romance leased upon the legends of the early settlements 
of Kentucky, written about forty years ago. If I re- 
member correctly it was entitled "Jibbenayinosah, or 
Nick of the Woods." The author was Dr Bird, a popular 
romance writer of that day. The hero, " Nick of the Woods," 
was a Quaker. The Indians having murdered his family, 
and he being alone in the world, took no other pleasure 



OVKa rHK PL.A.IN.S AND ON TfiK MOUNTAINS. 211 

than in seekini^. and taking revenge for the irreparable 
wrongs he had suffered. If the romance is to be believed, 
his thirst for vengeance must have been inordinate if it 
was not satiated by the number of his foes he sent to the 
'* happy hunting grounds." 

The stirring and thrilling events between advancing 
civilization and retreating barbarism, are of so recent oc- 
cnn-encc that they have not passed into legends and tradi- 
tions, but live in the memory and recollection of the present 
generation. Here yet linger the most conspicuous actors 
in them, who can relate them and vouch for their tnith, 
because like the Eoman narrator they can say: "All 
which I saw, and part of which I was." Other events, 
however, have left their record here, which ]ierhaps never 
will be deciphered. So long ago, indeed, have they oc- 
curred that even tradition has forgotten, if it ever knew, 
by what race of men they were enacted or at what period 
they occurred. In the southwestern portion of the Terri- 
tory, many ruins of indubitably Aztec towns are found 
Tradition says, that when Cortez invaded Mexico, and laid 
siege to its capital, the noble but unfortunate Montezuma 
called to his aid all the Avorshippers of the Sun ; and that 
the faithful obeying the summons of their monarch, aban- 
doned these their cities, and rushed to the rescue to fight 
the battles of their God and country. Iliey went forth to 
battle, but never returned ; for the Aztec army melted 
away before the powerful ijivader, like snow before the 
fiice of their Sun (lod. 

There too are those enigmatical i uins of the '' Seven 
cities of Cibola," or rather seven human hives; buildings 
jwattered over the Plains containing from 600 to 900 i-ooms 
each, and rising in terraced stories to the height of four 
stories. In front extends a semi-circular court yard con- 
taining from three to five acres, surrounded by a stone 
wall. The hive closes by a straight line the semi-circle, 
so that the building and wall represent the letter U if 
closed and filled to half its height. What people built 



212 OVER THE PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTANIS. 

these ? What Avcre tlicir modes of life, manners and cus- 
toms? History and tradition here stand mute, affording 
no ehie to unravel the threads of the inexplicable mystery. 
The architectural remains of Aztec, Tescucan and other 
semi-civilized Indians of Mexico, Centi'al and South 
America, though differing entirely both in design and exe- 
cution from that of the Old World, has no semblance 
whatever to that of these Seven Cities. They must, 
therefore, be the remains not only of a distinct race, but 
of a distinct and different order of civilization. Of what 
race were they, and what became of them? Were they 
an offshoot representing a more advanced stage of civili- 
zation of the Mound Builders, Avho, in the central part of 
our Continent, vanished before the rude hunter tribes, 
leaving no memorial of their existence except those mys- 
terious mounds in the Valley of the Mississippi ? 

I would not advise novel writing, and far less their 
reading; but if such inane literature as modern novels is 
to continue to be the almost exclusive staple of reading 
and consequently the mental pabulum of both young and 
old, then I say the legends of Colorado will be found a 
rich placer for treasures of a new sort. The change will 
also be for the better; for writers and readers will in de- 
gree leave the region of the fabulous and to that extent 
will enter the domain of actual life. The romancer will 
then give us a few facts instead of all fiction, and at least 
a tithe of an idea that will be of some service in life, in- 
stead of nothing, or rather worse than nothing as noAV. 

What intemperance is doing to Man physically, modern 
novels are doing to him intellectually, and it is a debate- 
able (piestion, which is the sadder sight, a man in physical, 
or in mental ruin. 

Besides the exploits of the Indian fighters, there are the 
thrilHng adventures of the old tra]>pers, a race now almost 
extinct in the mountains; a few havmg died, while 
the man}' have fallen victims to the untameable ferocity 
of the savages A few of them still linger here, not as 



OVER THE PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 213 

trappers but as sedate ranchmen surrounded by their herds 
of sheei? and cattle and droves of horses. To succeed in 
their hazardous adventures, some of these had ingratiated 
themselves with the chief of some powerful tribe; had 
been admitted as a member into it; leai'ned its language, 
adopted its habits and customs, and been initiated into its 
religious mysteries. Yet all this was no avail, for it de- 
pended only on what mood the Indian Avas in whether life 
was safe. Man}- of these after a residence of thirty years 
amongst the Indians have been butchered in cold blood 
without a cause. Fre^iont found a Sioux chief and two 
or three braves, down on the Eei)ublican Fork, nearly 
perished and surrounded by Pawnees, by whom they had 
been defeated. lie supplied their wants, protected them 
and took them in safety to their home in the mountains. 
In less than two days after they left his camp, they mur- 
dered in cold blood an old trapper who had lived amongst 
them thirt^'-five years and had been adopted into their 
tribe. Such is the nature of the noble Eed man of our 
morbid sentimentalists ! 

I have learned from these men, that the Indians have 
their nursery tales as well as we, and that the}^ have tra- 
ditions and legends of giants in older times who performed 
feats of strength and deeds of valor equal to that of the 
Greek Hercules. 

Legends of Indian exploits long anterior to the advent 
of the white man are also numerous. There is scarcely a 
brook, canyon or peak, of which some Indian tale is not 
related, derived from the Indians themselves by the daring 
trappei^s who w^ere domiciled amongst them. One of 
these only I Avill relate. While at Boulder, I expressed 
my admiration of the picturesque and singularly turretted 
mountain peak, just south of the canyon, but which I regret 
is so poorly represented in our engraving as not to show 
the turrets at all ; the most pictui'esque and striking fea- 
ture of the mountain, and I expressed a regret that some 
stirring: Indian tale of heroic deeds or tragic occurrence 



214 OVKR THE PLAINS ANP ON THE MOfTs-TAINS. 

was not associated wiili it, to spreail its name and fame 
abroad over evory land. There is, wa.s the reply. The 
Indians say that a Ihonsjind moons before they ever saw a 
Avhite man's f.iec, and wlien millions of buffalo grazed 
upon tlio Plains watere<I by the South Plalte, a party of 
Utes from their look-out on the mountains ha<l spied wliat 
they supposed to be a small baiul of Arai>ah(jes on the 
Plains. They immediately went down and atta(;ked them ; 
but the Arapahoes Aven^ sti'onger than they suspected and 
not only repulsed their assailants but ])ursued them so 
closely to the mountains that the Utes souglit safety upon 
that ])eak. Here they defied their pursuei-s and kept 
them at bay. The latter tried to take the heights by 
Ktorm ; but theii- enemies rolled down huge stones upon 
them and drove liiem back every time they attempted it. 
They therefore beleagured them and starved the whole 
party to deatli. Tt is said that ever since, the [Ttes have 
a superstitious dread of that jiinnaclcd mountain. 

If the talcs of a wild luinter's life should be more de- 
sirable staple for a romance, there is no hick of them also, 
Avhether of those who long since '* have gone over the 
Divide," or of those who are "still on the Range." The 
recital of these will melt the heart into ])ity, or freeze the 
blood with horr<»r. While wc were in the territory a min- 
er eanie o\-er the Snowy liange, from Middle Park, with 
the news tliat "'Mountain Jim" — a character whom they 
all knew, had a terrible tight witli a griz/.Iy bear in the 
Park, and was almost " cliawed up" before he succeeded in 
killing the be;u' with a knife, lie said that Jim had hia 
right i'\-ebro\v liitten off, his left arm litterailv chawed up, 
his ribs, and, one of his thigh bones laid bare by his 
ferocious assailant ; and though victorious in the fight, he 
would have j»erisluMi had not some ])rosi)ectors and tourists 
discovered him and kindly taken care of him. Since then 
I liave received a ])rivate letter iVoni Cenlral, from which 
the following is an extract: 

"I saw Mountaiit .Jim, ii\ town last Thursiiu}', who waa 



OYER THK I'LAINS AND ON TUK MOt'NTAINS. 215 

SO terribly mangled by a boar in Middle Park about the 
time you were here. ITis left arm is yet in a sling, and is 
entirely powerleiss. His i-ight eye is Rtill bandaged, the 
scars on his fa?e show hou- terribl}' it Avas l;icerat(!d; nnd 
he Avalks with difficulty. He is on his way to Este.s' Park 
where he has a ranche and considerable stosdi. He eays 
he has heard that tourists arc riiliiig and driving through 
his ranche and leaving the gates oj)en, and that his cattle 
are scattering. Jle has a man with him to collect his 
cattle and take care of them. With a nioi.st eye he speaks 
with gratitude of those who befriended Jiim in his late 
misfortune, both gentlemen and ladies. "Why," says he, 
^'Idid not know I had so many friends before. They 
took care of me as though I were a jirincc" 

Colorado previous to theadventof the wldle man was the 
battle-tield where all the neighboring tribes were con- 
stantly contending for supremacy ; and where the victors of 
the fight to-day, wei'e beaten and driven out by the victors 
of to-morrow. The mountain streams whose issues swell 
the Platte and the Arkansas, Avuter a plain covered with 
luscious grasses, and hence the natural pasture land of the 
buffalo, who in millions roamed over it and occupied it 
the whole year. The possession of the Plains of Colorado, 
was therefore the possession of the immense herds of 
buffalo that cover it. Xarrowed down, it was a question 
of food and raiment, for the primitive savages of this 
region clothed themselves in buffalo robes. In these con- 
flicts the hostile parties taxed their utmost resources, botli 
physically and mentally, to overcome, expel and if neces- 
sary to extirpate their adversaries. Art, stratagem and 
cunning were the weapons employed, Avlelded by bold- 
ness, braver}-, resolution, recklessness and desperation. 
Tragic events of blootl and cruelty were enacted, that 
fiends might imitate but could not excel. Ko tribe, how- 
ever, attained at any time more than a temporary posses- 
sion of the coveted land. Such was the position of thincra 



216 OVER THE PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 

when the white man, a new claimant, a|ipeared upon the- 
stage. 

The old tragedies with aggravated horrors were now re- 
vived; because here was the common enemy of the red 
man. Coalitions and confederations of the formerly hos- 
tile tribes were made not only to check his advance, but 
to expel him from the country; but the contest was un- 
equal this time. Neither physically nor mentally is the 
savage able to cope with the civilized man. As the rising 
day drives back the shades of night, so the wild Indian 
flees towards the setting sun from the irresistible advance 
of the civilized and enlightened man. The untutored sav- 
age may return to the attack, and make renewed efforts to 
avoid his fate, but he is doomed. lie may even be inspir- 
ed to desperation by despair, but brute force cannot con- 
tend successfully against intellectual power. The ordi- 
nance of Nature has so ordained it. Ilistory does not re- 
cord an instance where barbar(nis and civilized and en- 
lightened nations have dwelt side by side in amity and 
friendship. The contrasts are too great and the antagon- 
ism too irreconcilable between civilization and barbarism, 
so that collisions are inevitable. Civilization may not 
seek, yea, may do all that is possible to avoid such collis- 
ions, but they M^ill be forced upon it by barbarism. AYhen 
it comes to blows, victory in the end must perch on the 
banner that is the representative of the highest intellectual 
culture. Not only is thic true between civilized and bar- 
barous nations, but it is likewise necessarily true between 
nations of relatively different degrees of civilization. All 
the recent great wars bear evidence to the truth of this 
assertion; conspicuously amongst w'hieh may be named 
the late war between France and Germany. The French- 
man who wrote from the prison camp in the German 
lines, these memorable words, *' their common soldiers 
know more than our officers" stated both the cause and 
the i)hilosophy of the result. 

Our Indian troubles are to be deplored^ bat in the very 



OVER THE PI^AINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 217 

nature of things they are unavoidable. Philanthropists" 
Avith laudable efforts, are endeavoring to avoid them, but 
they have mistaken the means. Moral suasion used with 
the Indian, and homilies read to the whites will never do 
it. The first step to save the Indian race from extinction 
is to teach it fear and the art of behaving itself. But how 
is this to be effected? By moral suasion? The Indian 
knows nothing and cares less about moral influences. All 
the moral suasion to do him any good is that which is in- 
spired by feai'. Since he does not know that it is his duty 
to behave himself, let him know that he viust doit; and 
that if he does not do it, that sure and swift punishment 
Avill overtake him for his crimes. Bring him under the 
wholesome resti'aint of fear, and hold him there while 3'ou 
cultivate his moral nature. That accomplished, you may 
extend his lesson to civilization in genei"al, and teach him 
the duty, yea, the absolute necessity of supplying his own 
wants by physical labor. Then intellectual training and 
social elevation will naturally follow. 

'No doubt in many of our border troubles, the baser 
class of whites are the first aggressors, and deserve not 
only censure but severe punishment. But it is a squeam- 
ish sentamentalism in every instance, and u2)on all occa- 
sions, to lay the fault at the door of the whites. The hon- 
orable, high minded, noble red man has no existence in 
Xature. He is not a real, but an ideal character. And 
worse than that, the ideal is the worst possible caricature 
of the reality, as all ought to know who have ever come 
in contact with the original. In judging of the conduct of 
remote settlements towards the Indian, we ought to think 
of him as he is, not as we imagine him to be; and not jus- 
tify him while me mete out indiscriminate censure against 
our own race. Especially ought we to be chary in our 
judgment when we find whole communities affected by 
his mis-conduct, rising as one man and expelling him from 
the land. 

I have had ample ojiportunities upon the Indian fron- 



218 CiVER THE PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS 

tier for observation and forming an unbiased opinion on 
the oa.u8eH of the disturbed rehitions between the whiteti 
and Indians. I lived eleven years, ( eight in Alabama and 
three in Iowa) in the immediate vicinity of largo bodies 
of Indians in daily contact and intercourse with tho 
whites, free to come into the settlements and to go whitlier 
they ])leased and Avhen they pleased. It is true the Chicka- 
saws and ChocktawH of the South were in a rudimentary 
civilization of a xmy low grade; but so were not tho 
Sauks and Foxes of Iowa, and these moreover had only 
some six years before been severely punished in tho Elack 
Hawk War; yet in all that time, in neither lociility was 
there any collision between the two races, nor even a 
cause for any. There was a most cordial feeling of good 
will, trust and confidence between the parties; tho whites 
regarded them as a weak and helpless people, and there- 
fore entitled to kindness, generosity and protection. Any 
one who would have injured a simple minded Indian, 
would have incurred as much odium as if lie had struck a 
woman, or maltreated a child. Thus even upon tho rude 
frontier, the innate im])ulse of the strong to ptrotect the 
weak and defenseles.s, manifests itself as strongly and sig- 
nally as it ever does anywhere. When I therefore hear 
tho frontier settlers {(/-cused as lawless aggressors, exercis- 
ing wanton cruelty and perpetrating merciless and fiend- 
ish butcheries on peaceable and unoffending Indians, T 
f-annot believe it ; because it is contrary to all experience 
and ol)servaii(»!i. It is an impossibility in the very nature 
of things. Frontier men are daring; men of decision, en- 
ergy, vim and pluck; but they are neither outlaws nor sav- 
acres. Thev arc, in iact, the verv kind of men in which 
the manly and heroic virtues, of which })rotection to tho 
weak and defi-nceless is one, shine tho brightest, (tow- 
ards could be guilty of such wanton <'ruelties, but brave 
men never. 

It is, however, undeniable that violence and blocKished 
mark the extension and nhun the progress of settle- 



OVKU THE IMAIN'S A.VD 0\ THK MOUNTAINS. 219 

inents now as they did in the days of the Pilgrims, liow 
■can they be jiccounted for/' Veiy easily. Sharpers trad- 
ing with them shamefully swindle them. Outlaws who no 
longer find it safe to ])ly their robberies and thefls 
amongst whites, plunder and oftentimes murder them. 
These are about the only otVenees that are chargeable to 
the whites; and for which there is a remedy, if the Indian 
■could only understjind that the guilty alone must be held 
responsible for their crimes. The intrusion of the whites 
upon the Public Domain to which the Indian title has not 
been extinguished, is a source of irritation, but no crime. 
It is against the ordinance of Nature that myriads of 
«quare miles of rich and arable lands should be doomed to 
baiTenness, and lie vacant merely to furnish a hunting 
ground to a few vagabond savages. The white man so 
regards it, and conceives he is obeying the commands and 
•executing the decrees of the Creator when he enters upon 
and occupies it. As these intrusions cannot be prevented, 
and should not if they could, the Cfovernment should 
take early steps to prevent occasions for these conflicts by 
-extinguishing the Indian title. 

On the other hand the causes of Indian wars originate 
with the Indians themselves. Their native ferocity, which 
springs from regarding all men not belonging to their 
tribe as deadly enemies; their moral obtuseness which 
prevents theru from discriminating between mei/m. and 
tuum until taught by fear; their inveterate Bourbonism 
which nevci- forgets anything, nor learns anything, and 
which im})els t!u!m, howev^erfi'equently vanquishcil, tore- 
new perpetually the conflict with the Inevitable; these 
are the true sources from Avhich nearly, if not quite, all 
our Indian troubles spring, as the history of American 
settlement everywhere shows. They are the causes in 
operation now in Texas, New Mexico, Arizona, ('olorado, 
Montana and all the States and Territories on the Plains, 
the Mountains and on the Pacific Coast ; and to lay the 
entire blame upon the whites, is both griituitoits anddLsin- 



220 OA'-ER THE PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 

genuous, when the conflict, aggravated by a long series of 
wrongs, outrages and barbarities, does come, we must 
make some allowances for the exasperation of feeling 
manifested, and the almost inappeasable resentments these 
outrages have provoked. We may regret the extent and 
severity of the chastisement inflicted; but until human 
nature, as it always has been and ever will be, is changed, 
it never can be otherwise. There is no remedy, except 
that the savage man must learn the severe lesson which 
the civilized man has even 3^ot so imperfectly learned by 
sad but wholesome experience, that " they that sow the 
Avind must reap the whirlwind. ■" 



OVER THE PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 221 



CHAPTER XYIII. 

Any sketch of Colorado and her natural resources is 
imperfect that does not include her mines and mining 
industry. Disastrous as may have been enterprizes un- 
dertaken to develop her mines of gold and silver, and sad 
as may have been the experience of those that have risked 
their money in that enterprise; yet the fact remains un- 
deniable that her mountains ai-e rich in the precious met- 
als; and that immense and inexhaustible stores of gold 
and silver only abide the time when capital will furnish 
the means, labor the skill, and Science the knowledge to 
treat the ores successfully and make them surrender their 
rich treasures. 

However rich we deem her mineral resources, it is 
undeniable that at present the character of her mines is 
under a cloud, and stocks in them at a heavy discount. B}' 
some the mines are regarded as humbugs, by others as 
deficient in richness; and b}^ others, who admit their 
richness, as worthless because of the refractoriness of their 
ores. 

There are causes for all this diversity of opinion ; but 
they are so numerous that an attempt at their enumeration 
were futile. The great and controlling cause was and is, 
not the low grade of the ores, but tbeir character. The 
ores are richer than the ores of California and Nevada, as 
their analyses show ; but their character is such that under 
the stamp-mill (the processes that in California and Nevada 
save from 85 to 95 per cent, of the gold or silver in the 
ore), they will not yield on an average more than 30 per 
cent, of the precious metals, contained in them. In many 
•cases, ores that by smelting will yield from S200 to $300 



222 OVKR THE PT-.\TNH AND ON THE MOUNTAINS*. 

per ton, yield nolhinp; under the stamp-mill. In Califor- 
nia the orea contain the metals free, or else are wirbonatos; 
in Colorado they are sulphuret.s. Where the metal in free, 
or wliere its composition is that of a carbonate, it is sub- 
missive to the influence of mercury and forms an amal- 
gam with it; but when it is a sulphuret, it is indift'erentto 
the influence of mercury, and lumce cannot be saved by 
what is called the amalgamation process. Now the stamp- 
mill process is the simplest and least expensive process of 
treatinji; ores known. AVith it the treatment does not cost 
on an avei-age inoi-e than five dollars per ton. Hence it is 
par excellence the process for treating ores of low grade. 
This is the secret why the Coinstock mine, in Xevada, has 
been so profitable and enriched all concerned in mining 
it, and treating its ores. Though, as alread}- staled, its 
ores have not averaged more than twenty-five dollars per 
ton, (a quality of ore that would be worthless in Colo- 
rado), yet as it was all " )nill ore," three-fifths of its yield 
was profit. I have lieon assured, b}' a gentleman who had 
an interest in a claim on it and formerly was engaged in 
working it, that the cost of mining and mill treatment 
of that ore in no case exceeded ten dollars per ton. There 
are 22 claims on the Comstoek lode ; the bullion product 
of all these claims is over $200,000,000. Up to the year 
1869, from otlicial tables, I learn that it was §137,382,000. 
Tt was very natural that the earlier miners in Colorado, 
who were fitmiliar with the successful modes of treating 
the California and Kevada ores, should form high expecta- 
tions of the products of the richer lodes of Colorado; 
and that they should be sadly disappointed at the I'esults 
obtained in working them. Nay, that they should be 
struck with consternation and dismay at the results. 
What was the more inexplicable to them, and added to 
their astonishment, was that while the disintegrated 
quartz on the surface last^^d, the re-sults Avere satisfactory, 
and as good as could bo expected from ores of so low 



OVKR TflK pr,\INP AND OX THK MOUNTAIN;*. 223 

grade. But wlion the pyrites and sulphurets* were 
reached at greater depths, the metal hirgists, who knew 
nothing except what experience had taught tliem in the 
arastras and ntamp-mills of California, became nonplussed. 
Hei-e was something they had not dreamed of in their 
philosophy. The more they thought about it, the darker 
and more incomprehensible it became; and finally they 
had to confess that they were at their wits' end. The, to 
them, unknown character of the ores, was thefii'standthe 
most serious cause of failure in lode mining in Colorado. 
To be sure tiiey were not a new kind of ore; for the;y" 
constituted almost exclusively the kind known from time 
immenioi-ial ; and successful methods of reducing them 
were equally well known to metallurgists; but both were 
new to the stamp-mill men of California and Colorado. 

The eai'lier investments were generally made in good, 
faith, both by the miners and by capitalist^s. That they 
were so, it is sufficient to state, that men -who had acquired 
a competency by saving their hard earnings amid dangers 
and privations, in the earlier days of California mining, 
invested their all in lodes and stamp-mills in the moun- 
tains of Colorado. Many capitalists who had been suc- 
cessful in mining enterprises in California, also eagerly 
invested in lodes that were richer than those of California 
as shown by analyses made by competent metalluro-ists. 
These men knew nothing, either by experience, or by 
theory, of the character of ores, and of their method of 
treatment. The natural assumption was that they Avere 
of the same chai*acter as those of California, and hence of 
couree would yield up their treasures by the same process. 
Consequently, the inference was that tine same kind of 
machinery had to be provided for, and the same methods 
to be pursued here as there. When, therefore, both failed 
to produce the desired result, the presidents or agents of 

* The distinction between pyrites and sulphurets is mcrt'Iy nominal. 
Pyrites are gulphurets of iron, whereas combinations of sulphur and 
other metals are called sulphureis and not vyriiea. Pyrites, however,, 
may have beeides iron, the eulphuret'? of otner metals. 



'224 OVER THE PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS, 

mining companies thought the fault lay in the incom- 
petency of the foreman of the stamp-miH. He was dis- 
charged and another employed, but with no better suc- 
cess. • Still the opinion was that if an expert could be 
obtained, the results would be satisfactory, so he was also 
discharged; but matters groAV from bad to worse, until a 
consternation and panic ensued amongst the stockholders. 
There were no dividends declaring; yea worse, things 
had come to that j)oint that the concern did not begin to 
pay running expenses. This prepared the way for the 
supervention of the most disastrous fate that ever fell 
upon any undertaking. 

In the great extremity of the stockholders, light broke 
forth in a dark place. This, however, was a false light; 
being no more or less than a new process, a pretended 
genius claimed to have discovered; and claimed that the 
"refractor}^ ores" yielded ready obedience to it. Claimed, 
did I say ? Xo, that was not the word. Claimed would 
have left the matter in doubt until it were proven b} 
experiment. Xo, it was not claimed that the new process 
would do certain things, but it was boldly asserted that it 
did do them; and to prove it, the testimony of easy good 
natured and complaisant newspaper reporters and a few 
credulous and ignorant spectators, was adduced, certifjnng 
to the statement that they wei-e present at an experiment 
conducted by the interested part}', and saw everything 
performed satisfactorily as claimed by the patent, Hope 
revived in the desponding hearts of the stockholders, and 
they believed, because " the wish was father to the 
thought," that the intricate problem of making refractory 
ores tradable had received a final solution. Prudence 
Avould have suggested, that before the costly machinery 
be procured, that the jnattcr be examined by a competent 
committee of disinterested experts, and that a trial experi- 
ment to verify both the theory and process be made by 
themselves, or under their supervision. But incredulity 
was laughed to scorn under the jo}^ and excitement of the 



OVER THE PLAINS AXD OX THE MOUNTAINS. 225 

moment; and the manipulations and statements of inter- 
ested parties were received and accepted as true without 
question or any apparent misgiving as to their correctness. 
Then commenced that disastrous new process mania, 
lasting for throe years, from 1864 to 1867, by which 
millions of capital wore sunk, the character of the mines 
damaged, and the fair fame of the territory aspersed and 
almost ruined. 

Wlien the stamp-mill.s failed in working pyrites and 
sulphurets known to be rich, then the conclusion became 
general that the ores must be roasted; that is, the sulphur 
burnt out of them and the baser metals calcined, before 
the gold and silver could be amalgamated. Immediately 
there appeared any number of processes for desul2)huri- 
zation of the ores with expensive machinery. Of these 
desulphurizing pi-ocesses many were disastrous, some 
sheer humbugs, and even the best partial failures. While 
other new processes too numerous to mention were all 
miserable failures without any redeeming qualities. They 
Avere not based upon either scientific or metallurgicprin- 
cij^les; and even if they had been, Avere so exj)ensive that 
they could not be economic-all}'" applied. The only 
valuable legacy these j^rocesses left, was a large amount 
of wholesome experience, and some more or less useful 
second-band machinery which now is utilized for more 
rational purposes. 

Upon whose shoulders the blame of these failures 
should fall, it is hard to determine. One thing is cei'tain, 
the fault was not and is not in the mines. Perhaj^s the blame 
is about equally divided between operators and jobbei-s, 
between so-called scientific men, Avithout practical exj^e- 
rience and often blest Avith only a modicum of common 
sense, and blundering practical men Avithout science ; hon- 
est men Avithout capacity, and smart men Avithout honesty. 
That the disaster Avas Avide spread and ruinous, there is 
painful CA'idence everyAvhere. Crumbling Avails and tot- 
tering chinincA'S of "played out," reduction Avorks. Pon- 
15 



226 OVEK TIIK PLAINS AND ON TIIK MOUNTAINS. 

derous, broken, and rusted machinery and eurious shaped 
furnaces, whose fires have been extinguished for years, 
meet the eye everywhere and chill the liearts of capi- 
talists anxious to invest in the rich mines of these moun- 
tains. The fact that mining has ,survive<i these terrible 
trials and disasters is proof of its inherent vitality in. 
Colorado, and a pledge of its future pros])erity. 

For the four years, commencing with l^GO, the statistics- 
show that over 830,000,000 of gold was shij)ped from 
('olorado, while it is well knoAvu ihat immense sums were 
carried away by indiviiluals. In other words, the yield 
of gold liy the mines of ("olorado was upwards of S7,500,- 
000 annually. But as soon as the experiments with the 
new processes commenced, the quantity began to diminish, 
reaching its nunimum in I8(i7 when it was less than 81,800,- 
000. The new processes had now run their career and were 
generally abandoned as worthless, or if not Avorth less, too 
expensive for (u-onomical application. ^Icn noAV returned 
to the stam])-mills and altnoiigh these generally wasted 
from one-half 1o two-thii-ds of the precious metals and all 
of the copper and lead, yet the}' atlbrded a living ])rotit. 
The old and tried processes of Germany of dressing and 
smelting the oi-cs, im])roved by American ingenuity, were 
gradually introduced. Since then the production of the 
mines has gradually inci-eased from year to year. In 
1870 it reached aliout 85,000,000 as the shipments show, 
and the present year ( 1871 ) it will nearly, if not quite, 
reach 86,000,000!^ 

l^hough chlorination and smelting are perfect as metal- 
lurgical processes, yet they are too exjiensive to be 
economically applied to a large class of ores. The 
uninitiated have no means of telling what the average 
cost is of treating a ton of ore by these combined pro- 
cesses. But as tlu^ owners of reduction works (tbarged mi- 
ners from 830 to 835 ])er ton, the cost can certainly not be 
more than 825, and may bo less than 815. 

However, the stamp-mill and the amalgamation process 

\ 



OYER THE PLAINS ANU ON THE MOUNTAINS. 227 

aro the only means yet kno^^^l cheap enough to treat ores 
of a low gz-ade, since the actual cost in no case exceeds 85 
per ton. With ores containing the jjrecious metals free, 
that is, uncombined with sulphurets of other metals, they 
will save from 80 to 90 per cent, of the metal. But with 
pyrites, and sulphurets, and especially when the jiarticles 
are indefinit-ely small, tlie mill will not save more than 
from 30 to 50 per cent. Unle^ss the expenses for reducing 
ores by chlorination and smelting are much less than inter- 
ested parties would induce us to believe, the great problem 
of the future is to find a cheap process that will leave the 
precious metals in a condition to form an amalgam with 
quicksilver after the pyrites have been calcined. 

It is yet a mooted question whether the gold contained 
in pyrites is so in a mere mechanical mixture, or in chem- 
ical combination. The weight of authorit}' and exi:)eri- 
ment is in favor of the hypothesis of mechanical admix- 
ture. IIoAvever the gold of Colorado is generally alloyed 
with small quantities of silver and copper. The gold ob- 
tained by pulverization of pyrites mixed with copper, 
zinc-blend and lead, is not of a bright yellow color and 
metalic lustre, but has a grayish brown tint. It is what 
is called "rusty gold," and is indifferent to the action of 
quicksilver, it therefore will not amalgamate. From this 
fact the stamp-mill process fails to save it. It has not yet 
been determined what is the cause or nature of this coat- 
ing. In the refining crucible this "rust3^gold" gives a 
regulus of 99 per cent. However mechanical rubbing in 
pans, roasting, or chemical treatment, removes this rusty 
film and leaves the gold in an amalgamable condition. 
Also when copper sulphurets combined with other metals 
are desulphurized the gold cannot be extracted b}' amal- 
gamation, because it has this same film rendering it indif- 
ferent to the action of quicksilver. 

When the great problem is solved of ti'eating, upon a 
large and economical scale, pyrites and sulphurets so that 
the contained gold and silver is left in an amalgamable 



22H OVKll TUK l'r,AI\S AXD on TIIK MdlXTAI.VS. 

condition, thou the stamp-mill, as it is the oheajicst ami 
simplest of all known appliances, will supersede all other 
methods of reducing such ores as are found in the hither- 
side of the Jtoeky Mountains, fi-om Xew Mexico to 
Montana. The fortunate individual who will succeed in 
accomplishing this feat, will reap the richest harvest jet 
gathered in the field of discoverv, while at the same time 
he will confer untold blessings and incalculable wealth 
not only upon the great mountain region of the AYest, bui 
upon the "World. 

But it is evident that as the case now stands, j)rivate 
economy comes in conflict with political economy. The 
object of the individual is accomplished when he succeeds 
in extracting the precious metals in paying quantities at 
the least possible expense, regardless of how much he 
wastes. 

It has been already stated that on an average, stanij)- 
mills working pj-rites, and sulphurets^ do not save more 
than one-halfj some say one-third, of the precious metals 
contained in the ores, while they waste all the copj^er and 
lead. But the interests of society demand that there 
should be no waste. The common yield of one cord, 
(about seven tons,) of average gold ore at the stamp-mill 
is from 8120 to §130. Sa}' the average yield is a medium 
between these, that is 8125 per cord. According to the 
highest estimate this is only one-half of the assay value of 
the ore. Deduct $25 for mill fees and there remains the 
net yield of SlOO from seven tons of ore worth 8250. Sajv 
pose now that the cost of the combined processes of chlor- 
ination and smelting is 815 per ton or 8105 for seven tons; 
and that only 90 per cent, of the metal is extracted, which 
is 8225. Subtracting the cost of reduction from this sum 
we have a net yield of 8120. The difference of jirofit 
therefore would l)e 20 per cent, to the owner of the ore • 
besides M'hich the production has been largely increased and 
many more persons have been furnished Avith employment. 
« The estimated vield of bullion of the mines of Colorado 



OVr.R THE PLAINS AM» OS THK MOUNTAINS. 229 

tor the present year ( ISTI } is SG,000,000. Deducting 
from this for tlie pi'oeeods of <:;uleh mining antl smelting 
^VMrks !?2,000,000, and the product of tlie stamp-mills for 
the current year is §4,000,000. Ac(;ording to the forego- 
i)ig estimate this is only one-half of the huUion contained 
in the oues ti-eated by them. The actual value of the ore 
worked by them would, therefore, be S8,000,000. By the 
combined chlorinatio.n and smelting process upon the sup- 
]>osition that they saved only 00 ])er cent, this ore would 
have produced 87,200,000. The additional gain of the 
owners, therefore would bo fi.^OOjOOO, and to the public 
§3,^00,000. Such an increase of bullion alone would not 
only enrich Colorado but would atfect the business and 
prosperit}' of the whole country. Besides this the copper 
and lead saved would be worth a million of dollars more. 

That mining operations in Colorado can be made highly 
remunerative there can be no question. The success of 
the reduction works of Stewart, and of Ilucpeden & Co., 
at Georgetown, and especially of Prof. Hill's smelting 
works,- at Black Hawk, places this beyond controversy. 
The Caribou Company have now completed, at Middle 
Boulder, the most extensive and comj^lete works in the 
Mountains. They cost about $150,000, and I liave been 
informed that since they have been in operation they have 
shipped from 8,000 to 8,500 ounces of bullion per week. 

However, to nmke mining successful and the investment 
safe, men must go into it as they do into an}- other legit- 
imate business. There is a great deal of capital in the 
coimtry seeking profitable investment, but those who 
have the control of it, have spent all their lives in other 
})ur8uits, and have never had their attention drawn to min- 
ing ; especially mining of the precious metals. Thej- have 
besides had their fears excited b}- the losses their friends 
have sustained who had ventured into such enterprises. 
Capital generally is timid when controlled by those who 
have accumulated it. AYithin the field of enterjmse 
wherein they have gathered it, they can make a calcula- 



230 OVKH THK PLAINS AND OX TIIK MOirXTAINS. 

tion of rosiilliH with almost unfailing aoeuraey ; but in new 
fields of oiitiM-prise tliey can neither mak(^ a cahniUition, 
nor feel or see their way tiirough it, Jn fact every kind 
of business has so little margin for ]irotits, that it requires 
the closest sailing- to the wind to keep within the margin, 
and make a sueeessful voyage. Moreover the margin 
being small the opei-ation must lie on a large scale to make 
the profits an object. Hence the many shipwrecks that 
befall even the most waiy. Besides the uncertainty of 
prosperous circumstances, is the fluctuation in ])rices of 
the commodity on which the transaction is based. The 
price depends ujion the supply and demand. The latter 
may be two-fold the ordinary and extraordinary demand. 
The pros2')ect of an extraordinary deniaml may put up the 
price, yet aften all the' demand may be only an ordinary 
one. In such cases more or less losses must be sustained, 
and these may be often niinons. Of late yeai-s also the 
commercial centres have become theatres of operations 
whi(;h are no better than gambling. Thousands by these 
means become shipwrecked both in capital and character. 
It is generally the most unscrupulous that win. But there 
is one consolation, the victor of to-day becomes the victim 
of to-morrow. It is therefore a serious question for capi- 
talists to consider whether they cannot invest ther cajiital 
in other enterprises thanthose which are constantly drawn 
into, ami engulfed in the vortex of sjieculation and 
whether such investments Avould not be safer and the 
profit>s surer. 

In the kind of m-w cnter|)i-ises, mining deserves the 
most serious consideration, l)ut let it be done with 
a view of bnstiness and not of specnlation. (iold and 
silver arc tlie measures of value the world over, by wliich 
the pi'iccs of all other commodities are measured ; therefore 
there can l»c no fluctuation in their value. The only ques- 
tions to be determined are, how mu(di can be produced? 
and what will i)e the cost of production ? Both of these 
questions can l)e acnirately detei-mined by dis])assionate 



OVER THE PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 231 

investigation and calculation. In fact this is the course 
now pursued by all Avho mean business. 

While in the Mountains, 1 met English capitalists, ac- 
companied b}' a professional geologist and metallurgist, 
and by an expert miner. They would not look at a pros- 
pect.'; but when a developed lode was offered, the geologist 
examined carefully the country rock, the size of the 
c-revice and its material, and made a series of qualitative 
•and quantitative analyses; while the miner determined 
accurately the cost of mining. The supply of ore and the 
cost of reduction were then calculated from known data; 
and if the result showed a fair margin for profits, nego- 
tiations were opened for purchasing the mine. With such 
precautions as these no one need make a misadventure. 
This is the only way that investments should be made, 
whether the object in view be mining and reduction com- 
bined, or only reduction. Mr. Wn\. (^ope, an English 
capitalist whom 1 saw in the Mountains, after his return to 
England sent a written proposition to the "Central Keg- 
ister" saying that his company, the British and Colorado 
31ining Bureau of London, " stood ready at once to erect 
smelting works on a large and com])rehensive scale, for 
the treatment of all descriptions of ores, Avhether gold 
or silver, to invest $1,000,000 in the works and for the 
buying of ores, provided that mine owners will give 
sufficient guarantee that said works shall always be fully 
supplied with all the ore they can possibly use," and 
promised to revisit Colorado the present year (1872) to 
see what inducements mine owners would hold out for 
such investment. 

Mr. H. B. (rrose, an English metallurgist who has spent 
nearly four years in the mines of the Mountains, in a 
communication, dated London, Oct. 4, 1871, and published 
in the London Mining .rouriuil, says : " The country (Colo- 
rado) is a good one for mining, and parties interested in 
.ionafide mines under practical management have no need 
io fear loosing their money; for I am fully convinced that 



232 OVER THE PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 

there is not :i riclier coniitiy in the world for minerals 
than Colorado is, and especially for gold and silver. I 
have been thi'ough all the mines that arc yet opened up, 
and have taken every means to ascertain their value, cost 
of workinii", &c. ; and after allowint;; for all extra expenses, 
I find the averaiji;e yield of the lodes to be greater in value 
than in any other country, and with proper management 
would leave greater profits. There is no doubt the mines 
of ( 'olorado have been badly managed; in fact there is 
not a mine that I have seen, worked in a ]U'oper manner; 
neither is there a mine with the sole management in the 
hands of a practical man. It Avas quite a surprise to me 
to see how some of them are worked, and the waste of 
money incuri-ed." 

Mr. (rrose since then has returned to the Mountains, and 
did good sei-vice in exposing the tin swindle at (Jgden, 
Vtah. 

Ifaving sufficiently established the fact that the mines of 
Colorado are rich, and under proper management must be 
])i'oductive. It may perhaps be j)ertinent briefly to show 
the causes why so much capital has l)een irretrievably 
swamped in operations looking to their develoinncnt. 

Ill many cases failure was a foregone conclusion, which 
without a miracle could not have resulted otherwise. 
The management of the enterprizew^as entrusted to utterly 
incompetent, or if competent, to reckless men, whose ex- 
travagance made success an impossibility. Not even 
ordinary ])rudence, foresight and judgment were exercised 
in selecting the sight for reduction works. Inexpensive 
woi-lcs were erected, where the company owned the only 
lode in the vicinity, and that a mere prosjtect. At other 
places the ]irospects in the vicinity for mines Avere plenty 
but not a single mine developed; so that neither the na- 
ture and character of the ore, nor the capacity of the dis- 
trict to furnish a supply of it Avere known. Besides, 
Avorsc still, the OAvners of prospects had not the means of 
opening them up, or if they had, they had not the inclina- 



OVER THE PliAlNS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 233 

lion to do SO. Tliis is yet n serious obstacle i a tlie way 
of making reduction works successful. 

The defect is in the law, which allows a man to find and 
hold any number of prospects with a mere nominal 
amount of work on each. To homestead a piece of land 
it requii'es improvement of it aiul residence on it for tivo 
years; but for obtaining a ])atent for a lode it requires 
only the sinking of a shaft ten feet deep; whereas it 
should require its development by an expenditure of not 
less than S500. This, or something like it, I believe is a 
provision in the new law relating to mining now j^ending 
before Congress. 

As the case noAV stands no guarantee of a sujiply of or© 
can be given ; and consequently no assurance that the works 
will not have to stand idle. Summer, the best season for 
operating reduction works, is also the bewitching season 
for prospecting which the miner cannot resist. lie there- 
fore leaves and for months explores the mountain sides,, 
the deep gorges, the canyon walls or the towering peaks 
for ncAv lodes. 

In early days this evil necessarily was much greater 
than now; and consequently the first adventurers in 
mining and reducing enterprises suifered more from it 
than they would now. But it is as 3'et a serious drawback, 
and retards a rapid development of the mines. It was a 
fruitful source of failure then, and it has entailed many 
evils on the mining interests which are still felt and will 
be felt for sometime to come. Besides creating a preju- 
dice against tlie mines, it has reacted against the miners;, 
for shrewd capitalists that have since gone there and 
erected works, taking into consideration the uncertainty 
of a supply of ore, make it pay while they do I'un, both 
for the time they run, and may be idle; and hence pay 
verj'' low rates for ores. Assure them of a constant sup- 
pl}" the year round; and they will advance their prices for 
ores thirty per cent. 

So fiir I have only spoken of legitimaie transactions in 



'234 OVKR THE PLAINH AND OM TIIK MOUNTAINS. 

the Payt and Present; but there have boon many trans- 
actions, (and unless people are careful, there will be many 
more hereafter,) that were neither le<:;itiniate nor honeat. 
It is necessary to speak of these also, to make the causes 
apparent of that widespread disaster and consequently 
deep mistrust in the mines and mining in the mountain 
territories. 

Upon the discovery of gokl and silver here, those who 
had made profitable investments in California were not 
backward in venturing capital herej because their knowl- 
edge and experience in mines justified theia in doing bo. 
Insensibly others, who had no such experience, were 
drawn into like investments; and the })uying and selling 
of mines and mining stock became a S})eculation. This 
soon ran wild, because the purchaser did not know, 
or if he did, did not care to make the distinction between 
a prospect and a mine. The mountain men were not slow 
to perceive that a good prospect was etpially as saleable 
and brought as much money as a good mine; and they 
were not backward in profiting by it. As it answered ail 
their purposes, if they could show a well defined metal 
vein in a crevice, so they devoted tlieinselves to the task 
of finding these. But the fact that undeveloped mining 
property found a ready sale, and often commanded exor- 
bitant ])rices, in the end ])rove(l to be the most serious blow 
that it was possible to strike at the character of the mines 
and at the prosperity of the mining interest of the moun- 
tain territories. Such sales begat inteinjjerate speculation, 
and speculation begat a rage for finding prospects. Tlie 
quickening influence of speculation converted nearly the 
whole mountain population into ])rospectors; and their 
efforts M'ould have su])])lied prospects for i-easonable specu- 
lation prolonged indefinitely. Ihit speculation was soon 
intensified into a mania, which like all such transactions, 
by the operation of an inexorable law, collapsed and left 
widespread disaster in its train. It is necessary here to 



OVKR THE PLAINS AND ON THK MOUNTAINS. 235 

])ro<lueo US testimony the most shameful record of those 
times, showing how the tiling was done. 

A swarm of unprincipled speculators made their appear- 
ance in the Mountains, whose only object was to enrich 
themselves at all hazards, and by any means however foul 
and disreputable, and then flee with tlieir plunder from 
the country. They had confederates in New York and 
other eastern cities who were coworkers with them. 
These at iirst were ready to buy all prospects that were in 
market, and while their suppl}'' of money lasted, which 
was not long, they did so. But what then ? Where there 
was a purpose and a will, there was a way. Ink was 
cheap, the pen nimble, lithograph stone docile, and paper 
patient ; therefore one could be made to sa}', and the other 
to show anything calculated to strike the excited fancy of 
men laboring under a delusion. Fraudulent mining com- 
panies were gotten xip, stocks issued, engravings made of 
the company's Reduction Works and of the surrounding 
mouritain scenery, lithographed plats of the property, 
showing the locatioTi of the lodes; fraudulent certificates 
of pretended assays of the ores, signed and sworn to by 
fictitious metallurgists before fictitious officei-s attested 
under seal, <^'c., and with these the Eastern cities were 
flooded. Millions were thus ])aid for what "was not worth 
even a chance in that most worthless of all things, a " Gift 
Enterprize.^' 

But who is responsible for this state of things; and 
w^here lies the fault that disaster and ruin ensued from 
fiuch transactions? Sui'ely not in the mines, for they were 
only the occasion for, not the came of thera It has been 
•said, in music there would be no flats if there were no 
sharps. AVhether true or not'in music, many from sad ex- 
perience can testifj^ that it is true in some other things. 
Men possessed of some inoney which they did not earn, 
■and the value of which they, therefore, do not know, of 
sanguine temperament, little or no experience, and dazzled 
with the prospect of b<>c-o!ning millionaires with a single 



i:o6 OVER THK I'I.AI.\S AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 

reason's operations, arc very liable to become flats if sharps 
are about. It needs no labored arg-uineut with the facts 
set forth, that this is M'hat was the matter with these 
transactions for which the existence of gold and silver in 
tlie 3Iountains gave the occasion. They were mere 
"tricks Ujjon sti-aiigers." 

Before closing we jnust address one word of caution 
and advice to those who will undertake a mining enter- 
prize. You must do it u})on strict business jirinciples. 
Buy no pro])erty whatever until either b}^ personal in- 
spection, or by examination of a competent and honest 
expert, you have satisfied 3'ourself of its character 
and ascertaned its true nature and value. Never in- 
vest your capital in any company whose main object is 
to pay fat salaries to one or moi-e favorites; and who, in 
order that they may not be [>ut to any inconveniences, 
will have the ore brought clear across the continent to be 
treated at home. The failure of such a conipany is a fore- 
irone conclusion. The ores nuist be smelted in the moun- 
tains, and as near to the mines as facilities can be had. 
Labor is about as cheap there as anywhere and fuel much 
cheaper. At Boulder city, for instance, coal is delivered 
at S2. 85 per ton. The '^ matte" maybe transported clse- 
Avhere for separation and refinement, but that only so 
long as Express Companies and Railroads charge the 
enormous rates they now do for transporting bullion. 
The refining can be done there now as cheaply as any- 
where, so there is even no economy in having smelting 
Avorks in the Mountains and refining works at Omaha, St. 
Louis, Chicago, Newark or New York, 

When the works are completed, jKit the technical opera- 
tions in charge of a scientific expert, and the business 
management in the hands of a man of tact and capacity'-, 
who will supervise the whole by constant attention, and 
the grcuitcst possible vigilance. The success of Prof. Hill 
is mainl}' due to the fact that he gives his entire time and 
attention to the business management of the works while? 



OVER THE PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 237 

the technical 0])erations are entrusted to a skillful Clerman 
metallur^'ist. 

The present is a fiivorable time fur investment. The 
country has not yet recovered from the recoil and revul- 
sion caused by the earlier failures. Peoj^le are cautious as 
they should be 3 and Avlien you mention Colorado mines 
they are as suspicious as the mice in the fable, that a cat 
may be concealed in the bottom of the meal tub. A year 
or so longer, and people will have recovered confidence, 
when everything of value will be bought up for the pur- 
j»ose of legitimate business. Reduction works also will 
have been erected at all favorable points, so that rich 
mines now almost without value, being in the vicinity of 
such works, will be so much enhanced in value that the 
same favorable opportunities for investment will not exist. 



238 OVKR TIIK PI.AINS AND UN XHK MOUNTAINS. 



CHAPTEIi XIX. 

The time had now arrivetl lor uk to turn our fi\ce3 
homeward, and it Avas with deep regret that we yielded 
to the incxorahle necessity. A fter a sound and refreshing 
sleep, such as can only be enjoyed in its full fruition in 
Colorado, on tlie ITtli of JunCj I was up as usual with the 
dawn and out for a walk to enjoy for the last time the 
life inspiring breath of tlie nioniiug- air; to view once 
again the sublime and gorgeous scenery of Nature's great- 
est and best effort, and to feel once more the emotions of 
enthusiastic admiration and iiis])ii'ation which alone such 
grandeur, sublimity, yet uuudurned simplicity ciin en- 
kindle. , 

Both here and at Golden, whenever awake during the 
night, it was a most pleasurable sensation to be soothed 
and lulled to sleep again b}' the ever-nmrmuring waters as 
they flowed down the plain. Consequently, I seemed to 
be in fellowship with them, and felt a strong desire to 
hold communion with them whenever opportunity offered. 
I was therefore irresistibly drawn to their side, and on to 
the bridge over them, ready to muse and lose mj-solf in 
day dreams. Oh, how sweet it were to spend life here, 
■where everything speaks with such irresistible eloquence, 
yet soothingly and feelingly, to tlie eye, the heart, the 
mind and tlie imagination 1 There the everlasting moun- 
tains spring up at a single bound four thousand feet, to 
kiss the blushing, pure and smiling skies. Grand, awful 
and sublime are they, with a history that human pen will 
never record, a mystery that the human mind will never un- 
ravel, and involving laws that human reason will never 
unfold and explain. Yet they are as beneficent as their 



OVER THE rL.\INS ANft ON THE MOUNTAINS. 239 

presence is great, majestic and imperious. From the icy 
fountains under their stern and snow-covered crests issue 
these pure, limpid watere, to gladden the valleys, refresh 
the parched plain, clothing the land with verdure, and 
filling hill and dale with joyous life. 

From them, ye supercilious, proud, 

Learn the ji^eat lesson which ye so much need, 

That to be trulj'' great is to be good. 

Benevolent, beneficent and kind. 

And scatter blessings all around the land. 

Ah! surely this is a place for the poet to cateh new in- 
spiration and pour forth songs on themes nev'er attempted 
in verse, and where the moralist can draw ennobling les- 
sons of instruction, and enforce them by the great sanction 
of Nature. 

Listlessly and with a heavy heart I left the bridge and 
sauntered down the margin of the stream, then down the 
lane bordered by meadows and wheat-fields, through 
which runs the Denver road. I felt oppressed with an in- 
definable sadness Avhich I could not shake off, for in my 
ears seemed to bo ever ringing the words, *' Onco more, 
but never again. " I was at last an*ested by the thrilling 
notes of a skylark on the fence before me. Whilst listen- 
ing with ■wi*ai5t attention to his song, I could not refrain 
from repeating the following stanzas from Shelley's ad- 
dress to a skylark : 

"^Vhat objects are the fountains 

Of thy happy strain? 
"What fields, or waves, or mountains ? 

What shapes of sky, or plain ? 
What love of thine own kind? What ignorance of pain? " 

"Teach me half the gladness 

That thy brain must know, 
Such harmonious madness 

From my lips would flow 
The world would listen then, asl am listening now. " 



240 OVER THE PLAINS AN!) OX THE MOUNTAIXS. 

Ent even liis cheerful, joj'ous and ringing notes could not 
brenk the gloomy spell that had settled on my feelings. 1 
therefore returned to the hotel to prepare for the home- 
ward journey. 

After breakfast, everything heing ready, our kind Boul- 
der friends came in troops to bid us a tinal farewell. The 
drive of twelve miles down the plain, through which flows 
the Boulder, by Valmont, and through the village of the 
same name nestled at its feet, to the then terminus of the 
railroad at Erie, was delightful and pleasant. The sky 
was perfectly transj^arent and of that deep azure blue of 
which tourists in Italy speak so enthusiastically. But in 
the East, as usual, over the ])lain hung a grayish, purplish 
haze. I do not know how common this haze is, hut eveiy 
day I was out on the Plains fifteen or twenty miles from 
the mountains, while in Colorado and AYyoming, I encoun- 
tered it. It is a meteorologic fact which should be inves- 
tigated, as it is a precursor of, and synchronous with, elec- 
tric disturbances to the eastward of it. Its density also in- 
dicates the intensity of the electric disturbance. Fi'om 
the mountains I had noticed for several days that the haze 
was more than usually dense and lurid. I then predicted 
great electric disturbances to the eastward, and got laugh- 
ed at for being sO weatherwise. Yet on those very days tor- 
nadoes were raging from Galveston to Nebraska and east- 
ward to Louisiana and Ohio. It was on one of those days, 
namely, the 16th of June, that the town of Eldorado, in 
Kansas, was totally destroyed by a tor))atl(). That night, 
as we left Denver, there was a brilliant aurora, which even 
the dense haze could not hide, seen as far east as Ohio; 
and the foHowing Jiight, tlu> ISth, a most brilliant aurora 
w^as seen over the whole of the northern part of the con- 
tinent, I therefore renewed my predictions, not oidy of 
storms but of earthquakes. The storms extended from 
Central Kansas to New York, and the earthquake occurred 
in New Jersey and Brooklyn on the 19th, and one at 
Lima on same date. It is well known that in California 



OVER THE PLAINS AND ON THK MOUNTAINS. 241 

they dread an earthquake whenever a lurid haze 8])rcads» 
over the sky; and the recent terrible hurricane in the 
West Indies and the coast of Florida, accompanied by an 
earthquake, was synchronous with a hirid haze that spread 
from Western Nebraska to Central Ohio and south into 
Mississippi, and with a most brilliant fiery red aurora. 
The record of plwsical phenomena occurrinji; all over the 
fflobe, which I am keeping;, shows the unvarvini>; contem- 
poraneousncss of earthquakes, cyclones and other elec- 
trical disturbances, with auroras, lurid haziness and sun- 
spots as ftxr as I am able to obtain the latter. In Europe, 
as my record also shows, these electric disturbances are 
often preceded by the ])henomenon of mirat:;e. 

Returning now to our drive to Erie : When we had as- 
cended the terraced plateau some four miles east of Yalmont 
looking eastward, I saw distinctly an image, though faint, 
of the mountains behind us reflected in the haze. It soon 
vanished, and I saw it no more. I called Mr. Ephraim 
Pound's attention to it, (who was kindly taking us in his 
carriage to Erie.) I remai-ked, " I suppose we must call 
that mirage, though to do so knocks all the philosophy of 
the wiseacres into a ' cocked hat. ' " They have ordy one 
explanation to give of this phenomenon, and that is, that 
it is caused by the refraction of light through superim- 
posed strata of atmosphere of different densities; but thi.s 
is not the refraction but reflection of light. 

" This mirage, " said he, " is a wonderful thing. I have 
seen it, not faint as it is now, but as clear and distinct as if 
it came from a looking-glass. One day I was driving 
along listlessly, almost in a half dreamy state, when sud- 
denly I raised my eyes, and my first impression was that 
somehow my horse had turned around and was going 
home again. But looking bcliind I saw that he was all 
right. I then knew it was mirage, but more distinct than 
I had ever seen it before. I then saw that it came as 
though from a looking-glass more elevated than my posi- 
tion; for I could see objects reflected that I could not see 
16 



242 OVER THE PLAINS AND ON THE MODNTAINS. 

from the point where I was. There was White Rock and 
Valraont just as 3'ou see them now, and there was the 
Boulder flowing down through the pLiin as distinct as 
though I stood over it, and Boukler City and the mouth 
of the canyon, too, wliich you see are hidden behind Val- 
mont. It was the most Avonderful sight I ever saw. '^ 
Fremont, in his journal, mentions the same phenomenon.. 
iSeeing, what he supposed, some horsemen op2:)Osite in a. 
fog-bank, he sent one of his men to meet them, to ascer- 
tain who they Avere, why they Avere apparently trying to- 
head him off, and what object they had in view. As hi& 
messenger departed, lie saw one of the strange party do- 
the same; and discovered it was his own party mirrored 
back by the haze. 

We had now arrived at Erie, and had but ten minutes 
to spare. We therefore took cordial leave of our friends,, 
Messrs. Pound, ( 'orson and Captain Austin, who liad taken 
us to the depot, and Avho wished us a pk-asant and safe 
journey, which we reci])rocated by wishing them long life- 
and continual prosjierity. 

Once on ])oard the cars, attached to a fi-eight train talc- 
ing coal to Denver, we were soon on our Avay. We Avil! 
Btate here that Ave Avere indebted to the liberality and 
generosity of ("ol. S. W. Fisher, the General Superinten- 
dent of this railroad, the Boulder Valley, as Avell as of the 
Kansas Pacilic, Denver Pacific and Colorado Central rail- 
roads, not only for free i)asses but for other favors Avhile 
in the Territory, for which Ave tender him the most cor- 
dial thanks of our Avhole part}-. 

As soon as the cars got under Avay, I took my seat at 
the window to take a long and fiirewcU look at the glori- 
ous old naoun tains now fast rece<ling from view. A sj^ell 
came OA'er me, and I ventured for once upon the danger- 
ous hight of A'erse, to indite them a long and lasting fare- 
well. 



OVER THE PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 243 

FAREWELL TO THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS. 



Farewell, ye icy Crests ; ye fir clad Peaks ; 

Ye Chasms deep ; and foaming Torrents wild; 

Ye stern old Mountains, with your flow'ry dells 

Aid valleys green, and pouring cascades, white 

As your o^vn snow-clad brows ; a long farewell ! 
Ye are a gorgeous temple, such as ne'er 

By mortal hands was reared, nor extasy nor dreams 

E'er built in cities of enchanted land. 

I gazed upon your wonders, and I garnered 

Stores to fill the mind, and feed the loftiest thought; 

And fire and inspiration drew from out 

Your scenes ; whilst health I drank from j'our pure balmy air. 

1 cannot choose but gaze upon you now ; 

A glamour and a fascination sit 

Upon your brows, and dwell within 

Your deep abysms. A music, while I gaze 

Soft, entrancing, sweet as if it came 

From tt)ngues angelic, falls upon my ear 

And I'm again amidst your pathless wilds ; 

Amid your hills, and vales, and glens, and chasms 

I hear the ^Eolian strains of winds at play 

Amid the lofty tops of mountain pines 

And firs. Anon, I'm in the canyon wild 

And gaze upon its weird, gigantic forms ; 
The sound of rushing waters, and the roar 
Of cataracts leaping with impetuous bound 
From mid air to the yawning gulf below 
Fall on my ears; and I'm entranced again. 

Hail ! All hail, ye Mountains ! and ye Hills 
Ye Valleys, Glens, and Precipices steep ! 
All hail, ye everlasting Snows, pure and white 
Unblemished, unpolluted ; though of Eartli, 
Uiisoiled, where all else festering reeks 
With foul polution and corruption dire. 
Hail Boulder, mighty magic canyon hail ! 
Thv raving, foaming waters rolling down 
Through rocky gorge, now dark, now glist'ningia 
The sun, swift down the precipice they leap 
In cascades wild, with roaring, stunning sound; 
Thy battlements of rocks, now bare and smooth. 
Then rugged wild and threat'ning, high aloft 
Upon their craggj' sides, a giant brood 



244 OVER THE PLAINS AND fiN THE MOUNTAINS. 

Of firs and pines thoy bc'ar, which overarch 

Thy deep abyss. The blue (i"erhun<^ing sky 

Looks down and smiles upon thy beauty wild. 

Swift sailinj:; clouds their lleeting shadows throw 

la thy ab\'ss, and then the charming scene 

I3 bathed in twilight gloom. And liigh o'erhca<i 

The golden eagle soarji in circles wide, 

And shrieks in triumph his hoarse thrilling notes; — 

The exulting shout of Liberty. While 

I gazed on thee and thine, I was entranced. 

And saw things strange, and wonderful, sublim<i 

Beyond all utterance. My thoughts afire 

All wild on wandering wings soared upward far 

Above this mocking unsubslitnlial world 

Of shadows, to realms empyreal, where 

Nor change, nor death, nor phantasy have place. 

Ye great and glorious Mountains, hold the keys 
T'unlock the secret chambers of the heart; 
Ye have the power to change the fickle soul 
And harmonize its music with the spheres. 
Earth has no greater joy to me than t!iis: 
To flee the world and its corroding cares, 
And dwell amidst your rugged scenes, and fields 
Of ice and snow ; t«» hear the soothing hum 
Of flowing waters, and a requiem sung 
By odorous winds; to hear the eagle's shrill wild ahriek; 
To listen to the thund'ring cataract's roar; 
To see in wild contusion, rocks on rocks. 
And clitTs on clift'that scale the low'ring cloud ; 
To lay the ear upon 3'our breast and feel 
The throbbings of your mighty heart, and hear 
Entranced the gushing forth of Nature's sweet 
And glorious harmony, until I feel 
My soul enlarged, enraptured, transported, 
Exalted far above the sordid cares, 
Gross pleasures, and blind passions of the age; — 
Ah this ii real, noble life indeed I 

The transient spell that on my dreamin? mind 
Had fallen and kindly ta'en me back 
To thoughts and scenes so wild and glorious 
Is broken now ; and from afar I look 
Upon your snowy fields, and jagged peaks 
All cl-othed in sombre blue. 

Ere drops the veil 



OVER THE PLAINS AXD OX THE MOUNTAINS. 245 

That must forever hid»' from ine, your all 
Imposinj; grandeur, an 1 majestic mien, 
Say, cannot ye uiisenl those silent lips 
That keep the secrets, which from eldest Time 
Frail m.an has tried, in vain, to wrest from you 
And yours; and which with expectation wild 
The world on tiptoe e'er has stood to hear ? 
Thus far to me your bo-om ye'vc imveiled, 
And with a voice mc!<>diousl\- sweet. 
And mien all eloquent, me have ye taught 
To understand the weighty import of 
The lessi)n great, ye were designed to teach 
To my benighted race, of grandeur, power, 
"Wisdom, puiity, and Omnipotence. 
Will not ye, whose resounding echoes make 
So many-tongued the thunder's awful peal. 
Make me your contidaat a:id wliisper now 
Though in the lowest, gentlest brcatli, the word 
That gives the clew by which to tread the maze 
Whose intricacy has, till now. perplexed 
Confounded and embarrassed, and defied 
The purest, noblest, highest efforts of the mind ; 
And solves the laws and causes of your birth? 

Ye prattling tell-tale Waters whose glib tonguo 
The palsying lrostd^)th strive in vain to hush, 
To me will ye not now divulge the strange 
And thrilling secrets of these mountains old. 
By telling how they rose above the sea 
And plain ? Will ye impart the wonderful 
Mysterious argument to till the blank, — 
The abysmal blank, up on the scroll 
That men call history; how living things 
Arose and flourished ; then in Ocean waves 
O'erwhelrned, how long thej- lay in darkness and 
In ruin ; how amid the earthquake's shock 
When reeled the world and stars were blotted out. 
And darkness prime had filled again the deep 
Abyss, their forms arose above the sea. 
For aye preserved in stones as fossils strange ? 
How long they've lain as now they lie upon 
The mountain side, or deep beneath the plain ? 
Ah, yes, enumerate the cycles long 
Of loveliness, of ruin, which have swept 
The earth by turns; how oft the Earth so lovely, green, 



246 OVER THE PLAINS A.VO ON THK MOINTAINS. 

And filled with life exuberant, bewuue 

The bottom of the sea, by deluge whelmed 

And drowned for myriad years, then rose again 

To lii^ht, put on her wonted vesture green. 

And populous bt'came ag:iin; how in 

The ri^alnis of Space, new suns came forth ami bhixeJ 

Awhile, and then extinguished quite became 

In darkness, deep, impenetrable, stark. 

Ah, tell how oft Destruction fierce and fell. 

Revival lovely, mild and calm, in turn, 

Have stepped upon the stiige, and there havfe played 

Their magic parts, ere Man, the glory and 

The shame of Earth, first trode the scene to act 

His tragic, comic, or imposing part. 

Ye heaven-pointing Peaks, and pearly Flood.-* 
That teach to Man so much ; will ye not now 
Unfold the thrilling and transporting story 
Of all ye saw, and part of which ye were 
In all the great illimitjible Past ? 

What! Silent still I Not one small voic« comes forth. 
The echo of the myriad years, to tell 
The wond'ring world the mystery of your birth .' 
Ye will not for a moment lift the veil 
Implacable that hides the unrecorded Past ; 
Nor deign to tell the strange events tliat since 
Your birth have come and gone ! Ye are to ail 
Entreaty deaf and resolute and dumb. 
And sacred keep the secrets of your charge. 
The poet's vision, reason's grasp, and proud 
Philosophy, in vain, have tried to wring 
Fiom you the trust, and to the vulgar ga:^e ^ 

Unfold 3'our wondrous lore; and failing have gone mad. 

Ah, while I ga/.e, a vision bright flits by 
A glimpse it gives so fearful, grand, sublime 
Of that dread night whicli g:ive ye birth, that while 
The spell is still upon me I'll portray, 
If fitting words fail not, your natal hour. 

' Twas a tempestuous niglit; the lamps of Heaven 
Were blotted out : commotion red had seized 
This trembling sphere: wild whirlwinds racked the Earth, 
The air, the sky. The flashing lightning cleft 
Th'abyss of darkness shrouding Heaven and Earth ; 
'Twas then in r>irthjuake'3 couch, while Ocean seethed. 
The sidienod Exrth yawned wide, and gave ye birth. 



OVER THE PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTArNS. 247 

"Te -wonderful, sublime, majestic, grand 
And beauteous Mountains. The tempest then grew calm ; 
The storm's dark clouds flew swift as leaves before 
Th' autumnal blast; the gentle Moon looked forth ; 
And silvery stars beamed bright and calm 
In the elherial space. Anon the pure 
And go!den dawn broke forth ; and Orient Sun 
Before his throne drove back the ebon spirit of 
That fearful night; and when green Earth awoke, 
She found a cloudless sky. Mild zephyrs blew 
To fan and cool your glowing, infant brows ; 
And there ye stood as now ye stand, glorious. 
Resplendent, great, magnificent and calm, 
;Sublime, immutable, majestic. 
And proud, a mastery unfathomably deep. 
'The ever-during wonder of my puny race. 

"When I in contemplation wrapped behold 
The instability of Man, his works;— all that 
He is, and what he's wrought ; how rapidly 
New nations, tribes and peoples have, in turn. 
Arisen like the bubbles on a stieani 
.And danced, and glittered for awhi'.e. t'nen burst. 
Dissolved and disappeared from Eart'.i ;— effaced 
Por aye, and vanished into airy nought ; 
Ah, well may I a frail ephem'ral child 
Of clay then weep, to see the pride and power 
And evanescent glorj' of my race, 
Padolike a morning mist, and lost to sight. 
Yea, from all memory lost. 

Relentless Time 
Has ever fed upon his off-spring; spared 
Nor young, nor old, nor beautiful, nor brave. 
We call him cruel, but alike he treats 
Proud ^lan, the crawling worm, the mountams high, 
And continents im 1 seas ; e'en the bright orbs 
That roll in glory through ce'estial space : — 
All are engulfed and swallowed up by bin). 
I weep, but sweet it is to shed such tetas. 
Por thus the heart o'erburdened linds relief. 
And throws its sorrows off. But yo ne'er weep 
Nor know of sorrow, feel no grief nor care; 
For ye seem ever-during as the Sun ; 
Nor Time writes on your brows the boding Une-i 
Indelible of coming chjmge and growing age. 
;Stomi3 beat upon your naked breast and then 



248 OVKR THK I'L VINS AND OX THE MOUNTAIN!:. 

The li^htnint^f^lares upon your brows: the hoarse 
And bellowiiiy thunder sliakes j'our sides ; 
But azure calm returns, and find.-^ no wound 
Upon your breast, nor sear upon your brow. 
Day follows night, and Night the dying da}- ; 
The seasons coino and go ; and fleeting- years 
Pass and return, yet on your adamantine front 
Though stern and old, Decay nor Death will set 
Their Mithering seal, nor leave a trace or niark 
■ Upon your brow ; but warmth, a radiance niild 
Unfading beauty, and the vigorous glow 
Of an immortal youth, sit high enthroned 
As erst : — the pledge secure of endless j-ears. 

Ye Mountains, rugged, strong, unchanging, grand. 
With beauty wild and terrible, your dark 
And deep, rnysterii>us chasms, o'erhung 
By toppling rocks, and your cold icy peaks 
That glitter like a distant star; ye seem 
Eternal ; think ye the poignant words "No mork " 
Do not apply to you ; reesr\-ed for such 
As me and mine? Yet in the future age 
To you will come, as comes to all beneath 
The stars, destructive change. Kent, hurled and whelmed 
In ocean waters deep, the rolling wave 
Will be the mound that marks your grave. Alas, 
Who then will come to weep and shed the bitter 
Tear above your tomb, save I from far, 
From bright abo<les where the Eterniil are ? 

'Tis thus we part, but part to meet again, 
Both now and then. A tenant for awhile 
Of this terrestrial spliere, though I ma}' roam 
Afar, I still behold your shadows weird ; 
And though to eyes your wondrous forms no longer speak 
With burning words and eloquence so fierce 
That set my s ml afire; yet in my heart 
I hear amongst your pines the soughing wind ; 
I ga/Ji upon your silvtny lakes, your cliffs 
And rocky ramparts, icy peaks, tir-clad 
Escarpments, gorges deep and roaring waterfalls. 
And ni^^hing, surging streams in rocky beds; 
And as I gaze melodious voi<'es fill 
Aline ears, a glowing thrill darts through my veins. 
Mine eyes dilate, my heart with rapture swells, 
With wonted fire my soul's imbued again, 
And holds communion with the Great Unseen. 



OVER THE PLUNS AN.'t 0\ THK MOU.VrAIXS, 249 

Wc soon ran into the gray haze -which shut out the 
mountains, as well as cut off everything from view on 
the Plains, and we saw them no more. The sun had a lurid 
glare ; and a perfect gale of hot wind blew from the South. 
Several jackass rabbits lo})ing away, a tew antelopes scud- 
ding off over the Plains, and thckillingof a calf belonging 
to herders who had not precaution to clear the track of their 
stock in time, were the onlj- incidents that diversified the trip 
to Denver, Avhere we an-ived at three o'clock. Tlummag- 
ing through the contents of a news depot, we thund some 
stray copies of different dates of the Democrat and liepuh- 
lican, Avhich together posted us both as to news at home 
and the Avorld abroad that occurred while avc were buried 
in the reces.ses of the mountains. With these Ave whiled 
away the time until hall-past nine, when the eastward- 
bound train left. We were soon ensconced in the com- 
Ibrt^able berths of Pullman's palace sleeping cars, and ob- 
livious to everj'thing passing around us. But on we spe<l 
in charge of the fiery steed, and day nict us at Kit Carson^ 
near the eastern limits of Colorado. 



250 OVKIl TflK PLVIN:3 AND OX XHK MOUNTAINS. 



CHAPTEE XX. 

At Kit Cai-yon there had been rains wilhin a few dajs, 
and vegetation looked fresh and thrifty. At Arapahoe 
(pronounced Ah-rap-a-ho) thirty-five miles east, it had 
i"ained heavily, as the buffalo As-allows on the Plains and 
excavations along the railroi^l were yet filled to overflow- 
ing with water. At Pond Creek, at an elevation of over 
4000 feet, the industrial agent, R. S. Elliott, of the Kansas 
Pacific railroad, has one of his experimental stations, at 
which were sown wheat, rye, barley and corn, all of which 
looked remarkably vigorous and thrift}-. The barley an<i 
rye wei'e just coloring and would be ripe in ten days* 
There was also a nursery of various species of deciduoas 
ti^es grown from seed the present se^ason, which were very 
flourishing, and the brilliant green of their leaves con- 
tiiisted beautifully with the black moist soil on which tliey 
Btood. 

At Wallace, a meal station, where we took breakfast, we 
met Mr. Elliott, who expres<sed himself sanguine of the 
triumphant success of his e.-tperiment. 80 far as we could 
judge there appeared nothing to prevent the realization of 
his foTidest hoj)es, namely : Tluvt of abolishing the '' tt-reat 
Americiin Desert." 

Off again, we successively passed Sheridan, Gopher, 
Monument, Carlyle, Crrinnell, Buffalo, Coyote, Park's Fort, 
Ogallah, etc., all stations from ten to fifteen miles apart, 
consisting generally only of the station house and tene- 
ments of the railroad employes. These mostly are of 
those subterranean dwellings already mentioned, or cabins, 
though occasionally there are a few neat and comfortable 
«ottages. The whole horizon otherwise encloses an ex- 



OVER THE PLAINS AXD O.V THE MOUNTAINS. 251 

-panse of treeless, shrubless plain, covered with the short, 
velvety buffalo grass. The only thinj;- that give?< variety 
irt the old. buffalo trails, leading straight as the tlight of an 
'arrow north and south over the Plains, which can be fol- 
lowed with the eye, as for as sight can reach, by the deeper 
color and richer green of the luffalo grass. At short 
intervals Ave passed prairie dog villages, and, as ^ve had 
nothing else to do, we w^atched, for amusement, their 
antics when alarmed by the approaching train. The first 
thing was for each member of the family to run home on 
the approach of the train, then take a peep for an instant^ 
Avhen up would fly heels and tails, and they were out of 
fjight. The old one of eveiy hillock, whom we took to be 
.the paterfamilias, generally faced about when he got to the 
hole, and set himself up straight to look at and study the 
monster that creates such alarm and consternation in the 
village whenever he passes. When sitting up straight, in 
color, size and position he looks like a ten-pin set on top 
of the hillock. 

Well, since there is so much imiformity and sameness in 
the landscape of these Plains, the variety ol' objects is lim- 
ited Jind their discussion soon exhausted. For want of 
■something else, let us while away time by talking of thi-s 
our unjustly stigmatised little friend, the Prairie Dog. A 
■welcome friend he always is, for he relieves us of ennui, 
and breaks up the wearisomeness and dull monotony of 
these wide expansive and treeless Plains. For this reason 
he possesses, aside from his novelty, a permanent and 
abiding interest to all traversing this part of the Conti- 
nent. He was discovered by Lewis and Clarke, in their 
ever memorable expedition across the Continent to the 
Pacitie, un 1804, '05 and '06, and described for the first 
time in their Journal. They called him the Prairie Dog, 
not because he Is any way, even remotely, allied to the 
dog, or resembles him in nature and habits, but simply 
l[>eca,use he sounds his alarm note, " chip-ip-ip," so rapidly 
and shrilly as to have some resemblance to the yelping of 



252 OVER THE PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 

a pup. But then, everybody talks of the Imrking of a- 
squirrel, yet nobody thinks it a ^utticietit reason for calling 
it a do/4. Why then should the one be libelled^ by being 
citlled a dog. for yelping, and not the other for barking? 
Each yelp he gives, when he sounds the alarm of danger, 
18 accompanied by a ^witching of the ti;il, similar to 
a scpiirrel Avhen barking. 

Well, if we are not to call him the Pi'airie Dog, Avhat 
are we to cjill liim? .Sure enough, Avhat? A question 
well and pointedly put. Unfortunately he has been many 
times christened, but the names have not stuck well, ex- 
cept the vulgar one given him by his discoverers. 

The Indians called him Wishtonuu.sh ; and he isBO calleil 
in the description given of liim in tlie Journal of Pike's 
Expedition to tlie J^Touutains in 1806. Guthrie, in 1815, 
y.roposed to call him Arctoinys Ludorlcianus. Literally, 
Arctomj's means Bearmous<:, or Bear-rat. It is the gen- 
eric name given to the Marmot famil\' ; one specie-s of 
which, the Arctomi/s Monax is familiarly known as the 
wood-chuck or ground-hog. Ludovicianus comes from 
Liulorieus, the Latin lor Lewis. Tlie name pr()j)osed by 
(iruthrie, there tore, when translated would be, Lewis' 
Alarmcjt. The name is not only inappropriate, for the 
Pniirie Dog is not a marmot, but the name, Lewis' Marmot, 
was already apjiropriated to another animal and a true 
marmot, the Arctoiny.^ Lctci^li. Prof. Say, who accom- 
y^anied Col. Long's Expedition to the ilocky Mountains, 
in 1820, describes him under the name oi'oposed by Prof 
Guthrie. 

Audubon proposed to (.-all him Sprr/nop/uhifi Ludocicia- 
nus, because it seemed to him that he was nearer allied to 
tije sixn-mophiles than to the marmot. He is, however* 
less lithe and less active than the spermo))liiles, and not 
so short and clumsy as the marmot. In lint, in form and 
habits, he is intermediate between thi; two. ^V'arden pro- 
posed to call him Arctoini/.'i 3[i>:.'<ourierisi.<. Others have 
proposed the generic name Sciwriif'-, that is, squirrel, lor- 



OVER THE PLAINS AXD OV TIIR MOTXTAINS, Z-Yi 

him. All! l)ut look at his tail I Yok, look at it. St'i.a, a 
shadow, and onra, a tail. Do jou cnll him \vith that 
stamp}', seraggling haired vertebral appendage, an animal 
that can sleep in the shadow of his tail ? Eah I Sciurus 
indeed ! Why all Squirreldom feels insulted by the propo- 
sition ! But recent zoologists have called him Cynomys 
Lvdoviciatiu^. Cynomys literally means Dog-mouse, or 
Dog-rat. Hence it seems that scientilic men are not in 
accord as to what he actually is, nor as to what he shall be 
named, except the specific name of his first describer, 
Lewis. 

The common names proposed fur him have not shared 
a much better fate than the scientific, always excepting 
that given him by Lewis. Those who have not fancied 
the latter, have proposed to call him the Prairie Mai'mot 
Squirrel. The French Canadians, trapping in the Moun- 
tains, call him " ie lietit chien" the little dog. But, not- 
withstanding, the obvious impropriety of the term first 
applied to him, he is now generally called and known by 
it; namely, the Prairie Dog; and he will bear it till his 
race l)ecomes extinct, by the extension of settlements over 
the vast Plains of which he is njow the only denizen that 
has a fixed habitation. 

lie is found spread over the Plains, eastward of the 
the Eocky Mountains, foi' five hundred miles, and from 
the Missouri to south of the Red Iviver in Western Texas. 
They are always found in communities; sometimes num- 
bering hundreds of families living together. Their habi- 
tations are called ''dog-towns," or "itrairie dog villages." 
It is said the burrows are connected by subterranean 
galleries. Ohl rangers of the Plains, amongst other 
strange stories, say the towns are intersected by streets, 
and that the streets are kept scrupulously neat and clean. 
These streets must be underground, as above ground I 
but rarely saw even evidences of a regular beaten path. 

The female has ten mammae, from whenw it is inferable 
l.hnt they are very prolitic. 



254 OVER THE PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 

All}- one of them seeing the approach of danger, imme-- 
diately scampers off to his burrow utt<iring that peculiar 
cry which has been fancifully compared to the yelping of 
a puijjiy. At the first cry of danger from the outskirts of 
tiio town, tlic whole community takes it up, every one 
making for his own hole. A thousand guinea fowls,, 
alarmed by a hawk, could not make more racket than the 
denizens of a dog-town on such an occasion. Arrived at. 
home, without stopping to see whether the danger is real 
or imaginary, all plunge into their holes b}^ a kind of lu- 
dicrous summersault, excepting some old quidnunc who 
has an aversion of being humbugged and then laughed at 
for being so easily sold after all hi.s pretentions tosuj)erior 
Avisdom. Having arrived at his hole, he sits himself up 
pei-j:)endicularly on his hind legs, and takes a cool survey^ 
of the vicinage to satisfy himself whether there was any 
cause for all this commotion, or whether it was a mere 
hoax played off by some wag of the village. I have, on 
manv occasions, seen them rise on their hind feet to have 
the better view. If there is real danger, he caches in a. 
twinkle ; but if the alarm was false, he runs to a neighbor, 
apparently exchanges a few words with him, and then 
runs back to his own burrow, giving a shrill Avhistle.. 
Soon a head is seen cautiously peering out of each burrow, 
and when satisfied that there either was no danger, or 
tliat it is over, they venture out and set up a chipping un- 
til the Avhole village joins in the concert. That concluded' 
they attend to pleasure or business as though nothing had 
happened. 

The young colored man who had charge of our sleeping 
ear, and who, by the way, was a model for politeness and 
honesty, and most sedulous in his attentions to our Avelfare 
and comfort, seemed to have taken a great interest in 
these little fellows, and to have studied their character and 
habits well. Besides he was well posted in all the stories, 
told of them by the old rangers of the Plains. 

Ho told me many cm-ious anecdotes about them, which-. 



OVER THE PLAINS AMD ON THE MOUNTAINS. 255" 

caunot be repeated here without becoming tedious. 
WhilHt staying at Ellis one day the idea struck him of 
going out on the Plains and seeing the dogs at home, and 
ascertaining what kind of a life they led. 

Creeping as near to a village as possible without being 
discovered by them, or of alarming them, from his fevor- 
able position he could overlook the entis-e plot of the 
town, and such a frolicsome, wild and madcap set of fel- 
lows,' he had never seen before. The younger ones were 
romping, rolling, tumbling and playing like so many kit- 
tens, whilst the older ones were running about saluting 
each other and chatting in the greatest glee. Every one 
was constantly on the move, except a big old fellow who 
Kit very stilt' and stately on the hillock around his burrow,, 
never moving. Evidently he Avas the " big dog " of the 
town, perhaps, its Mayor, and could not unbend his dignity 
enough to take part in the sports and amusements of the 
village. P:very dog in the town would run up to him and 
have\ short chat with him and then scamper away; but 
he felt too much the cares of State, or his own importance 
to relax one moment from his gravity. 

From observing their habits and studying their charac- 
ter, the young man has become fully persuaded that to 
avoid disorder, each village is a municipality consisting of 
a regularly organized government; and that this grave 
old chap is at the head of it. He also averred that in 
some villages he had observed that the Jackass Eabbit 
was the Potentate. He reasoned in this way; that if the 
race of big dogs through dissipation became degenerate 
or extinct, then if the village had no dog large enough to 
fiftthe bill, they elected a Jackass Pvabbit; because the 
first qualification for chief of a dog-town is, altitudinal 
dimensions, so that they will have to look up to him. If 
that is so, there should be no hesitation to admit that they 
arc a wise race. Man, himself, could go and learn lessons 
of wisdom in politic* from them; for the Human race 
have in no case, excepting that of Saul, selected their head 



256 OVEa THE PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 

man for qnalific'itlons thut would constrain thera to look 
up to him, either physically, morally or intellectually. 
However, in one respect they copy remotely the precedent 
set by the Prairie Dog; they generally take the animal, 
minus the rabbit. 

I saw, myself, a Jackass Rabbit, of the largest size, sit- 
ting on the higiiest hillock of the town looking as grave 
and dignified as any J.ord Mayoi', and surrounded by the 
dogs, but whether he was lord paramount and was there 
officially to receive us and tender us the hospitalities ot 
the towi\ I cannot say, as we very unceremoniously 
passed by M'ithout stopping to ascertain. But there he wa.s 
sitting up straight and immovable, although the train 
passed within fifty yards of him. 

The young man said, when a dog-town is governed by 
a rabbit, the}- show as much respect and deference to him 
4is if he were a dog. Just as we do, sjiid I, to our Jack. 

This calleil forth another argument from the young man, 
to this elfect : " I see you don't believe it; yet you beliov(> 
that a beehive is governed by a queen. Xow irora what 
you have seen, to which would you assign the greater in- 
telligence, to the bee or to the Prairie Dog? As you must 
to the latter; which then is the greater strain on human 
<Tedulity, to believe that law reigns in the beehive or in 
the dog-town ? " Continuing, he said, " 1 tell j'ou these little 
follows are almost human. \cu cant find an old ranger 
of the Plains that will kill cue of them, unless forced to 
it by hunger, though their meat is tender, juicy and de- 
licious. The tenderness and aftcction they show to each 
other, has touched the feelings of those exteriorly rough 
and seeming!}' hardened men. You kill or maim one, anh 
instantl}'- the tenants of the burrows sally forth, regardless 
of danger, and carry him home. The old rangers say 
that this shows niore than human affection, and that they 
will ftot, except in case of necessity, be instrumental iu 
striking down with death the lovod ones of such a house- 
hold and fill it with sorrow and ffi'it^f- ' 



OVER THE PL.\INS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 



25^ 



I believe Leckey mentions a general hhliof tliat the 
elephant is a religious being in hia native forests; and 
tliat it is their custom once a month, on the night of the 
full moon, to assemble on the banks of a river in South 
Africa for general woi-ship. The Prairie Pog has a simi- 
lar custom. On a summer evening, they have cither ves- 
pers or else })rayei's after their fashion ; and on the night 
of the full moon these services are continued far into the 
night and with unusual clamor. 

It has not been settled vhat office the burrowing owl 
holds in the miuiicipality. Some think it is that ot scav- 
enger or doctor ; and others say it is that of fool-catcher, 
ridding the community of pestiferous members. Some 
again are satisfied his sole occupation is that of snake- 
killer. If the latter, then he, like our street cleaner, is 
evidently very remiss in his duty. All, however, are 
.agreed that the rattle-snake is an unwelcome intr-uder, a 
loafer who insinuates himself where he is not wanted, a 
regular nuisance that has to be tolerated or worse would 
ensue. 

The following are the dimensions of the full grown 
Prairie Dog : 

From the tip of the nose to the root of the tail 13 
inches; length of vertebrae of tail 2 5-8 inches; length 
of tail to tips of hair 3 1-8 inches; width between the 
eyes 1 1-2 inches. 

As the body of our Western fox-squirrel is but 12 
inches; and that of the Eastern 14 inches, it will be seen, 
that the Prairie Dog is intermediate in size. His color 
resembles that of the fox-squirrel, but is more clayish- 
yellow. On the Plains and North, on the Upper Missouri, 
he hibernates. According to Lieut. Abert, on the frontier 
of Texas he does not go into winter quarters. 

After the Prairie Dog, the novelty of the snow fence 

attracts attention. The snow fence is placed north or 

northwest of a deep cut some fifty yards distant. Imagine 

ft plank fence some seven feet high, with a support in- 

17 



258 OVEE THE PLAINS AND ON TUB MOUNTAINS. 

clined at an angle of forty-fivo degrees, and you will have 
a tolerably correct idea of the appearance of the enow 
fence. The wind in striking it " becomes demoralized"' 
and drops its burthen of snow, instead of carrying it for- 
ward and, as with malice prepense, blocking up the road in 
the cut. 

The buffalo trails of former years also present novel 
features. They lead over the Plains northward as far as 
sight can penetrate, perfectly straight. The first impres- 
sion i>s that a furrow had been made by the plow; and as 
the young grass in tlieni is of a more vigorous growth 
than that on the Plains, tli((y appear like a narrow band 
of deep green .stretched over the prairie. 

Wo saw a numlxtr of jackass rabbits and a few antelopes, 
which fled at our approucii. A short distance cast of 
Ogallah there was an immense patch of the beautiful 
Gaillardia picta, the first wo had seen on our return. It 
was a real treat to look at their large puri)lo blooms,^ 
fringed Avith yellow, and it was a relief to tlio eye to seo 
something else than the greenish gray buffalo grass and 
dull gray Patagonian ])hiintaiii. 

A mile we^st of Ellis there was a largo area of jn-airie 
freshly broken. A 8trean\ of some size from the north 
hero empties into the Smoky Hill Ftn-k. Ellis is 303^ 
miles west of the Stiite line, that is 581 miles west of 8t. 
Louis. 

Wo here entered into a sirocco that blew a i)erfect gale 
from the south. It was so hot that on your hands and 
cheeks it produceil a sensation like that of a sunbeam, and 
the brass, iron and wood of the seats felt hot to the touchy 
Our conductor told us that they blew on an average oneo^ 
and sometimes twice a week, from the middle of Juno to- 
the first of September; that they were from ten to fifty 
miles wide ; and were invariably the precursor of a storm 
either there or further down on the Plains. In January^ 
February and during the early part of March, similar cold 
blasts, called by the railroad men, "Nebraska zephyrs,"' 



OVER THK Pr^rNS AND OX THE MOUXXAINS. 259 

sweep south. As 1113' informant said, '• tliey are keen 
enough to shave olT the hair of a buffalo." 

A few miles east of Haj^es wo came upon ten buffalo. 
They first started off in a trot, but as we neared thoni, up 
went their tails and down their heads and they gallojied 
away as far as wo saw them Avith a speed truly sur- 
prising. The conductor remarked, we will probably 
soon see a large drove. Before we lost sight of the first 
we came upon twelve more, who also fled atourap])i'oach 
But a large drove of hundreds soon came in sight; in fact, 
the Plains as far as wo could sec wore covered with thcTn. 
The nearest being about two-thirds of a mile off, they 
kept grazing and paid no attention to ns. 

At Fossil, and some distance both east and Avest, there 
is a valuable white limestone for building purposes. It is 
so soft when '-green " as to bo more easily cut into blocks 
than wood ; 3-et when thoroughly dry it becomes so hard 
and firm that it is said it will bear the weight of the 
largest structures. 

At Wilson's creek, 1586 feet above tide and 522 miles 
west of St. Louis, the winter wheat sown late in ^N'ovem- 
ber at the experimental station was nearly ripe. The 
stand was excellent, hight fine and heads large and well 
filled, with no signs of rust on the blade. Its yield per 
acre must fully equal the average of wheat in Missouri 
and Illinois. The rj-e was unusually good and fully ripe. 
Corn and soi-ghuni were dark green and very thrifty; 
vegetables, such as peas, beans, potatoes, tomatoes, melons, 
etc., very promising. The nursery seedlings of deciduous 
trees looked so vigorous and thrifty that there can be no 
doubt that timber can be grown on the Plains. It was 
yet too soon to judge whether evergi'cens, such as pines 
and spruce, would succeed, though so far they appear to 
do well. The European larch had also been planted for 
trial, but like the evergreens, it takes a whole season to 
determine whether it Avill succeed. 

In the vicinitv of Wilson's some immitrrants, who had 



260 OVER THE PLAINS AND ON THE MOUNTAINS. 

pushed west, thus far in advance of the Betllenients, had 
broken u]) some considerable prairie. At Ellswortli the 
advaneinjr wave of settlement rolling westward meets 
you. Iloi-o is a snui:^ little village of perhaps seventy 
houses, and (-(^nsidorable land in cultivation. In all di- 
rections, on the Plains, the cabins of those making home- 
steads or pre-emption claims could be seen, generally sur- 
rounded by a new breaking of the pi^airie sod. The soil 
is black and very friable, and judging from the gi'owing 
crops, fertile and productive. I cannot conceive how there 
can be a lovelier rustic landscape than this must become, 
wlien entirely subdued and under cultivation. 

At Brookville, twenty -three miles east of Ellsworth, we 
met and exchanged civilities with Messrs. Adolphus Meier, 
(\ S. Greeley, and Wm. M. ]\IcPherson, otficers of the 
road, on a tour of inspection. Erookville, just 200 miles 
west of the State line, (488 miles from St. Louis,) is a 
flourishing town for its age. Its elevation is 1250 feet 
above tide-water, and is situated on a rolling grassy and 
rich prairie, which is fast settling up. The machine shops 
of the Kansas Pacific railroad are located here, which 
have given an impulse to its growth and settlement. 

It was quite dark when we left Salina, where we stop- 
ped for supper. Before retiring, and while our berths 
were preparing, I went on the rear platform of the sleep- 
ing car. I observed that there was a dark bank of clouds 
lying along the whole western horizon, in which there 
■was an incessant play of vivid lightning. I recalled the 
prediction of our conductor as forecast from the sirocco. 
This phenomenon ought to be observed and investigated 
by the signal ofUce, as it may involve and unfold an im- 
portant law of meteorology. 

It will l)e observed from the distances made that the 
rate of the trains on this roatl is only twenty miles an 
hour. Yet, on the return trip, I found we had to stop 
once an hour, and oftencr, to cool the car boxes by pour- 
ing water on them to prevent them from taking fire. la 



OVER TUB PLAINS AND ON TIIK MOUUTAINS. 261 

a convci'sation with those having charge of the train, they 
tokl me the difficulty to a great extent was owing to the 
mcteoi-ologie condition of the weather; and that they 
were much more trouhled Avith heated boxes before, du- 
rintr and after thfso siroccos than at anv otlier time: and 
that they couhl almost unerringly foretel a sirocco, by ob- 
serving the temperature of their boxes. If this is so, it 
will fiiiggesL tlie existence, of a new jihysical law, in the 
transformation of the C().-.mi(al litres, a law more than 
8us])eeted from other ])hysical tacts. 

The storm overtook us at jManhattan and it poured down 
till near daylight. Wo found water standing everywhere, 
when day met us at Lenape, 22 miles beyond the State 
line. The creeks were booming, and the culverts at many 
points of the road were overtaxed and the water threat- 
ening to break over the road. On the Missouri Pacific, 
beyond Pleasant Ilill, we found a break, which however 
had nearly been repaired when we got there, and the Blue 
near by wa,s up to within a few inches of the bridge; and 
many cornfields were under water. 

The rain had extended to some ten miles below Jeffer- 
Bon City, when all traces of it vanished, though a violent 
wind-storm swept over all Eastern Missouri and Illinois. 
Around Sedalia, and especially west of it, is a landscape 
whose conformation and natural features at once remind 
you of the lovely jdains of Ilansas. But there is this dif- 
ference; i^\<i,\-Y foot of this plain is under cultivation, while 
in Kansas they are yet practically in a state of nature. I 
could, therefore, not refrain from recalling the emotions 
of admiration and enthusiasm I felt on first beholding tho 
wide expanse and beauty of the undulating ])lains in Kan- 
sas. In his course around tho earth, the sun does not look 
upon a lovlier scene than they. Yet here I could see what 
mighty changes time and ai't will effect in them. On 
every knoll stands the ample mansion of the farmer, sur- 
rounded by shade trees, orchard and vineyards. Here are 
hedges stretching far away over the plain enclosing fields 



262 OVElt THE PLAINS AND OS THE MOUXTAIXS. 

of wlu'Ut, rye arul b;ii-icy fillecl -svilli shocks or tilready 
garnered: nnd there the dark green corn, the meadow and 
tlio oat fiohl cover the vast phiin as far as the Qyo can 
reach; and then yonder again ai-e ]>a.stures filled Avith 
herds and flocks, a jvistoral scene that would tax the ])ow- 
crs of a Homer or Yirgil to describe. 

Before another 8core of years are mimhercd with the 
past, this picture will Icive lieen reproduced on a more 
western landscape, on tlu- more ample plains of JCansas, 
improved and embellished by intelligent industry, judi- 
cious care and refined taste, in in-oportion to the vastness 
of the theati'i- on which it is done. 

After luiving repent days and Aveeks u])<)n the treeless 
and even shrabless plains of Kansas and Colorado, it was 
quite an agreeable change and a Avclcome relief on enter- 
ing Missouri to see again the hills and valleys covered 
with forests, fields bordered by growing timber, and Iho 
expansive cultivated plain int(>rspersed with j)leasant 
groves. 

At 8 o'clock 1'. M., .lune lOth, we arrived at home, just 
forty-six liours from J)eiiver, distaiice 928 nules. 



EEPvATA. 



Page 8t, sf>oontl liae, for ''fhe fwo b''.it," ro.id "to the best." 

Page ?>7, fourteenth iinf>, f >r '•malnLy" rend ''namely." 

YiigQ 12 1, seventh hnefroin holtom. for '•hiiiorii' read "bisiorta." 

Pago 20/', first line, for "Indian blood-tklmtyne-'is" TtiAd Indiim in 

hloud-ihirsfi.ne..sx." 
Page ^O'^, fifteenth lino froni the bottom, for ''grounded" read 

''groi.ip"!^." 
Peveral minor typographii/al errors in mis-spfllirig e-:oapt-d notice 

until too liitiA f ir correction. A* the intelligent reader caa correct them, 

it i3 not ne<'eaS:irY to note theiii. 



IK"DEX. 



CHAPTEPw I. 

Leaving St. Louis G. — Arrival at Kansas City 9. — Anecdote 0. — 
Reception !it Atchison 11. — Trip to Watcrville 14. — Surrounding:* of 
same 15. — General character of landscape 15. — Summary of general 
features of landscape, character and quality of ?oil and S!U)itary condi- 
tion of country passed over 17 

CUAPTEIl II. 

Leavenworth a.s seen from Military Reservuiion 20. — ilailroad bridge 
■across the Missouri 21. — Leavenworth as a commercial City 23. — Trip 
to Lawrence 24.— .\rrival at Lawnnice 26. — History of Eldridge House 
26. ct seq. 

CHAPTER HI. 

Trip southward 2:^.— Ottawa 30.— Flora on route ;52.— Eli Thayer 33. 

(;oal 33. — Lands 34. — Return to Lawrence 3'.. — Early setth'rs and 

cliaracter of the people of Kansas 3G. ct soq. 

CHAPTER IV. 

Leaving for the Mountains 37. — Observations on wheat crop 40. — 
Isew Flora 41.— River system of Kansi« 42.— First Prairie dog villagt? 
44.— Experimental stations of Kansas Pacific R. R. 45.— Water supply 

40. Horned frog and buffalo calf at Fossil 50. — Insensate slaughter of 

buffaloes 50. — Building stone 51.— Buffalo grass 51. — Antelopes and 
buffftloe8 52. — Coyete 53.— Night closes on the Plains 54. 

CHAPTER V. 

Return of dav 55- — First glimpse of the mountains 5ij. — Arrival at 
Denver 57. — Early settlement of why 58. — Off for (Jolden 01.— Descrip- 
tion of Gl. — Pulpit Rock or Castle Butte 63. — Flora found at Golden 
64. 

CHAPTER VI. 

Morning view from Cattle Butte 67. — Chimney gu.cn G9.— Flora in 
same 70. — Ascension. )f dominating peak 71. — View from same 72. — 
Exhilarating effect of an attenuated atmosphere 75. — Causes of same 76. 



cnAPTp:R VII. 

R<>tiirii to DfiiviT 7 'i. — Ilonte down thrt \'allt!y of tho riatte 78. — 
Litndscapo around Evans and Grct-ley 70,--Union colony at Greeley 80. — 
Plains between Greeley and Gheyenno 82. — Fantastic forms of erodid 
rocks 83. — Cheyenne HO. — Grazini; in "Wyoming 84. — Return to Denver 
and excursion nroar.d vicinity 85. — Colf)rado strawberries 8). — Exour- 
Bion to Houlder 8f). — Coal mines at P>ie 8i). — Road from Erie t-i Roul- 
der87. — Reception at B(julder 88 

cn.vPTKR viir. 

Scenery around liouldcr 00. — Excursion uj) the Canyon 9o. — Flora in 
6amc 9G. — Grandscenery of '.>.;.— Eajjlc (Hiff '.)».— R(jcky Mountain .she(^p- 
100.— Castlo Rock 101.— Water yrade of Canyun 104. 

CnAPTER I.X. 

Trip to C-aribou 10."). — L'pper valley of the Roulder lOo. — Beaver 
106. — New Flora 107. — First snow tiilil 108. — Mountain storm cloud 
J08. — Road up the mountain 108. — Cardinal 109. — Finst view of Snowy 
Kanp;e 109. — Caribou 110. — The first snow bank 111. — Prospect holes 
and minint; shafts 111. — Evening ramble over the mountain 113. — Peak 
of the Snowv Range 1 1 o. — Accoustic effect of attenuated atmosphere 
114. — Effect i>n breathing of animals IL"'. 

cii.vpti:r X. 

Mornmg nuiibie over llie mountains lltJ. — Longe-rctited Jay 117. 

Four striped ground squinvl 118. — Talk with a miner 118. — Caribou 
Lode 119. — Magnetic iron ore liO. --Orderly conduct of the miners TJlJ. — 
Grand Island 122.— Metals in the district 122.— Woods on fire 123.— 
Another view of ^[ountain .sheep 12-'). — Falls of North Boulder 126. — 
Singular conduct of a Rocky Mountain bhio binl 127. — Return to Boul- 
dcr'l28. 

CHAPTER XI. 

Morning ramble 12^. — .Vpostropbe to the Waters ];!0. — Photograph 
stones 1. '10. — Explanation of them i:'.'). — \'i-il to Marshall's coal mine.'^ 
on South Boulder RM.— Extent of coal 1;!4.— Irrigation R-o. — Advan- 
tages of l;!7. — Agricultural effects of l-'J J. — (Jra.Nshoppers 13o.— Excel- 
lence of flour l:J8. — Crystalized soda incrusting soil lo8. — Premium 
awards for field productions 1. '59.— Extent of Arable land in Plaito Valley 
and afiluents 1 10. — Desirable grazing region 140. — Arable and grazing 
land on the Mountains 141. 



IKDKX. ni 

CHAPTER XIL 

Colonial schemes in Colorado 143. — Difficulties suggested 144. — 
Drawbacks even in niininf^ towns 145. — Grecnsborough colony 147. — 
Col. Wuesten's German Colony 148. — Mountain ranches product of 
149. — Chicago Colorado Colony 149. — Climato of Colorado not deter- 
minablo by empiric laws IW. — Sanitary condition of Colorado 152. — 
Par excellence the climato for invalids 150. — Directions and warnings 
to consumptives 154. 

CHAPTER XHL 

Inevitable hardships and privations in forming new settlements 15G. — 
Where immigration in Colorado goes 157. — The mountains not a barren 
WJist« 157. — Climate on lower Plains severer than at base of the moun- 
tains 159. — Proposition of irrigating canal from Platte canyon eastward 
over the Plains 160. — Advice to emigrants 161. 

CHAPTER XIV. 

Different orders of plants demand different kinds of food 163. — Diffi- 
culty of keepinj^ a supply of plant food in the soil 164. — How fertility 
is spread 165. — Irrigation in the Orient, etc., 166. — System carried to 
America 167. — ^Products of vegetation 167. — Estimated amount of plant 
food carried on and deposited in the soil by irrigation 168. — The prob- 
lem of perfect manure solved 169. 

CHAPTER XV. * 

Middle Park 170. — Mecca for invalids 170. — Precious metals in 171. — 
Flexure of Snowy Range enclosing it 171. — Pertains to Pacific slope 
172. — Elevation above tide 172. — Surface and vegetation of 173. — Con- 
templated railroads through 174. — Agricultural adaptations of 174.^ 
Grand Lake 174. — Coal beds in 175. — Precious stones 175. — Sulphur 
springs 176. — F]roded stone monuments 176. — Passes over the Rang© 
leading into it 177. — Area of throe northern paries 178. — Upper basin 
of the Arkansas 178. — San Luis Park 179. Lake Saguache, singular 
phenomenon in 179. — Singular facts about harvost 181. — Public land 
in San Luis Park 182. — Review of attractions and inducements to all 
classes of tourists 184. 

CHAPTER XVL 

Difference between views, visfa'i and sU/hts stated 187. — Difference 
between works of Nature and of Man 189. — Contract between the 
Yosemite and Boulder Canyon 190. — Vistas and views in thomountaina 
192.— Top of Mount Lincoln 195.— Lakes 197.— The Divide 197.— Men- 
wnent Creek 198.— Gardens of the Gods 199. 



CHAPTER XTIL 

nisiory of Coloni-lo 201.— Peoples Courts 202.— Piirty divisions when 
the PvebcUiou broke out 203.— The Colorado side of the Saud Creek 
affair 20o. — Indian insolence punished 207.— The heroes of the Moun- 
tains 208.— Col. Pfeifer 203. — Ruins and their traditions 211. — Mountain 
Jim 214. — Indian history of 215. — Advent of the white man 21G. — Con- 
trast between civilization and barbarism 216. — Cause of Indian troubles 
217. — Where tlio responsibility lies 210. 

ClI-U^TER XVUl. 

Mining in Colorado 221.— Cause of c:irly failures 222.— Disastrous 
experiments 224. — Who responsible for them 22o.— Products of mines 
226. — Rusty gold 227. — Waste of stiunp-mills 228.— Success of 8meltiu<j 
works 229. — Investments in mining recommended and advise how to do 
it 2.30. — English Ortpitalists, their proceedings and opinions about 
Colorado 231.— Why formerly so many failures 232.— Shameless 
swindles 23-j. 

ClI-YPTEK XIX. 

Skylark 2o9.-Lcaving for home, haze on Plains 240. — Denotes electric 
disturbances Hi. — Produces the plu'.nomenon of mirage 241. — On board 
the cars 242. — Last look at the Mountains Ih. — Farewell to (hem 243 to 
.248. — Arrival and departure from Denver 240. 

CIIAPTiai XX. 

Rains at Kit Carson in Eastern Colorado 250. — I'ond CrueK experi- 
mentid station 76.— Buffalo trails on Plains 251.— The Prairie dog 252 
Xo 256. Snow fences 256. — Siroccos in Summer and " Nebraska zeph- 
yrs" in Winter on the Plains 258.— Herds of Buffalo 250.— Night 8torm 
•iif rain 261. — Arrival at home 2G2. 



EANSAS PACIFIC E. R. CO.i 



4 

Our road nins 



FR09I KAI¥SAS CITY, MO. 



DENYER, 638 MILES. 



ALSO, 



A Brancli from Leavenworth to EaM'rence, 33 Mile«(. 

We have also, the Denver Pacitio, from Denver to Cheyenne, 106 miles. Al- 
KO the Boulder Valley Railroad, now completed to Krie; will be com- 
pleted to Boiddef City this summer. We are building a road 
from Junction City, Kansas, to Clay county, Kansas; 
and a road from Kit Carson to Fort Lyon, Color- 
ado. We probably will build a road 
from Lawrence, Kansas, to Car- 
bondale coal-tleld.s, thir- 
ty-two rniles, thi.s 
summer. 



i'a*sen;?ers leaving .St. Louis at 8:30 a. ra., will reach Kan.sas City in time 
to take the westward e.\i>re.S8 lertvinjcat 10:00 p. m. : arrive at BrookviUe at 
»:45 a. m. and Denver next morning at 7:00. Time, -W l-'i hours. Dis- 
tance, 92:i mileii. 

PULLMAN'S 
I^^LA^CE SLEEI^INa CAJEiS 

Are Attached to Each Train. 



I'lw-seBKers leaving St. Louis in the evening e.\pre<<s tniin, will oiTive at 
BrookviUe at 9:0t> p. m. next day, ami havea good night's i-e<*t. 



Rob't E. Carr, President. 

Adolphus Meier, V. President. 

C. S. Greeley, Treasurer. 

Edmund S. Bowen, Gen'l Sup't- 



Our specialties 



AKK 




EPICURE BROILERS, 



Kithcr of WhirJj are rcTtVctlv liuli.-j.cn8til)l« in cviiy Well HrgU-hitid Hou-w-- 

hol.l. 



[,'nequalffi in the Conibiucd Mcrit.s iiC 

Economy, Wurabilily, |Coiiveiiieii<e, Cleanliuess^ 
and Excellence of Operation. 



A single. Trial in nil we »i-k, beinfr ^iilisfied tliHt Ihty will not fail to liWt' 
I'crfect Sfitirtliiction. 



Hxcelmor Jflanni'arlurinff Co* 

612 &. <»l lt\. Main Street, St. Louis, 

AND A I.I. 
I^lve fStovo I>eulerK. 



H \??. S-l 






°^ 



"^^ 



'■^m^ ^.^ v: ,. 






■^ «^V ^Mif^ ^'^ 




"^./ --'Mi?. %.^' 



v-^ 



^''^ IWIW/ .'^^•^. V 






o 



4T> • ^tr-i.N 



<". 



.V 









J: 









V 



^^■^ 



.Z- 



MVv"* 






jy » ' • °' 



}. 



*•&• o " o ^ "^ 






,.*^^. 



-^^0^ 



,-lq. 



^> 



V . •> 






^^' 



.. A^ »V "V. C'?^'^ /^Vl'^ '^tc A^ 



-.V -^ • " " A" ^J* 



V *i:^^. 'c> 













<S:x\\\!!" - -^ J * ^ 






.• .^% '• 








N. MANCHESTER, 
INDIANA 46962 




* 












